To them,
I'm no darker than night,
No lighter than day.
Yet, unusual and weird,
Some unknown species.
Not sharing,
They said.
She's indifferent,
They said.
Simply put,
I'm the elephant in the room.
The eye-catcher,
The noticeable.
The black girl with scars,
On her hands.
That's all they see:
My scars and my skin.
Back then,
Words hit like daggers.
And gazes judged me,
As waterfalls flowed.
Never bothered to look inside,
Where I truly lie.
Not one label,
But a bundle of things.
Achy,
From all the writing.
Different,
From all the DNA.
Colorful,
From all the painting.
Unique,
'Cause God made me that way.
Guess what?
Small things matter most.
I don't need a seat,
I already have a folding chair.
***
"If they don't give you a seat at the table, bring a folding a chair." - Shirley Chisholm
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2020: The Poetry Collection
PoetryAlright. In the year of 2020, many things have taken placed. From a pandemic to Black Lives Matter protests. To people losing their jobs and entering depression. These have been some pretty trying times, but it has given me inspiration. It has inspi...
