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Poem

I used to think of tokens 
in terms of appreciation
Until someone mentioned 
something in passing 
they said they had grown weary 
of being a token 
What a curious thing to say 
is what I thought at the time 
But I soon got to see it all 
for what it really was 
It often starts off innocently enough 
The appeal of getting the opportunities
denied the rest of your kind draws you in initially 
To be the exception to the rule 
is most certainly a thrill
You get to be the exotic one 
while the others are seen as repulsive 
It can quickly turn to one selling their soul to earn or maintain approval 
It's an easy trap to fall into in all fairness 
In most cases you have to be a yes man 
Willing to vote against your kind to fit in
Being a complete and shameless sell out is a must 
You have to put up with being stereotyped for effect 
Even throw in a few laughs at bigoted jokes
aimed at your kind for added bonus
Nobody wants to be rejected obviously 
but being a token might result in self betrayal 
or even self hate,I think 
You have to shun a part of yourself 
in order to be useful in concealing disparity 
Be the bold voice and face that represents a false display of equality 
How do you ever look your kin
in the eye again after that, I wonder 
Or even look at your skin and coily hair with love ever again 
Do you simply stop seeing any of that 
as part of your identity, maybe 
How does one even begin to cope with all that burden 
You might even start believing the scam that you have been lured into
Its truly tragic in my opinion 
But then again what do I know 
I'm not built to be a pet
I'm an African wildling
I was born free

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