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Poem

Why do you see me by the 
colour of my skin and not 
the depth of what lies within, 
why do you blame the culture 
I'm from instead of seeing me 
as just a human, why don't you 
research history and see my 
success and victory through 
slavery? I walk into your shop,
thinking I'm there to steal so 
your security follow me like 
I'm on twitter but no I'm better. 
Don't snare me for my shade 
because of your hate or other 
bad elements, I'm eloquent and 
decent. My greater parents did 
the time, almost like they were 
sentence to life, treated like swines 
when it was just the colour of our 
skin suffering the brutal torment of
your sins. I don't hate you, yes I 
blame you, yes I would  irradiate 
the thoughts of your hate so 
you'd have no reason to celebrate 
and hate on my beautiful shade,
yet you sit in the sun to emulate.

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