the sad part was ;
as I grew up I was surrounded of people of my skin color, and a few that were not,
I used to think that 'maybe if I was white I'd be pretty, with blonde hair and blue eyes.'
and no body told me I was beautiful without the Barbie look.
I wanted to be someone who I wasn't even close to being .
'maybe if dad was white too, I'd be pretty like just like the pretty white girl in class.'
I sat with curly hair and my melanin
right next to her, legitimately dreaming about how pretty I'd be.
+ wow this is completely true society sucks
YOU ARE READING
astronomy•poetry
Poetrythese poems are for the lonely, forgotten, the lost poets at three am, and everyone else in between cover credit: -sidjenkins
