Poems From The Heart

Who am I?

We all think we understand what others have been through who lived before us upon these lands
But I don't really know.
Where am I even going to go?
We all think we know better, what to do,
Im just trying to figure out
Who are you-Who am I, I'm sorry I don't mean to be that guy
Who talks about the rest as if I know what's right from wrong which way to go
I just gotta slow it down, write the words that I've been told as they are what makes me bold.
I know that I'm not great, I can't even understand my future, my fate
That's why I've been told to write these words that lead to hate and I do apologize if this comes on a little strong
I only mean to share my voice it's how I belong.
Yes I say I know my past and the history from which I'm from
But truly I can't see—the history, my brain is numb.
I go around spouting hate about the rates that people congregate to talk about the waste that we've put in the world.
I know I sound irate but once again I want to state that we have started to create a world where there is no debate about the innate qualities we have, as people.
Can't you see?
We're— people.
Yeah, you and me.
Then why is it so hard? So hard to relate the situations that we've all been through to those around us, yes me and you.
We want to think we know what's best, that truly we aren't like the rest. Who lie about the things they know, which with this we cannot grow.
You judge others based on things they've done, but judge yourself by your intentions. You can't do both, pick one!
For you and I will too be judged when we meet what's up above. And he judges you on your criteria, so you better know your idea.
I talk about my people as if I'm one
Who understands the brutality that's been done.
I only know what I've been taught, which clearly isn't a lot.
Since people out here seem to know things about my history, about my kings.
And when I want to talk about it,
People just want me to quit.
I've been told I talk to much about my race,
That every conversation has that at its base.
Well I apologize for trying to understand what others have been through who were placed upon this land.
It's clear that you know more since you don't want to listen.
Oh, you don't? Than what's the reason?
Does the topic make you uncomfortable? Something you want to tuck under the table?
Because you can't relate, to what others have tried so hard to escape?
Now I'm no teacher, I'm no Muhammad.
But I'd like to know what it is he did.
They don't teach that in the history books, but there are books that teach your history.
The winners tell the story, and so they have. For many years we've let that pass.
And now I sit here
Unknowing and unclear
Of what the people before me did here.
So yes I talk about my race, whichever part of it that may be.
I'm Black, I'm white, I'm a Native American.
All these words that say, I get in again.
But that's not the reason I want to know, what others did so long ago.
I want to know, so I can understand.
Maybe some of the struggles are still at hand.
But if you want me to keep my mouth shut, I will.
But you'll be the one to answer to him, deal?