Ashamed to Be an American {POEM}

What do you see when you look at me?

Don’t answer that, cuz you don’t even KNOW me.

In this life, up on this stage

I play,

A voice for the young world

A short, little, nappy-headed black girl

Society told me who I ought to be

Before I even had the chance

To DECIDE….

We ARE FOOLS

FOOLS and TOOLS of an approved, yet bruised

And silent, yet imperative system of

FALSE TRUTHS-

YOU can be ME-

BUT I COULD NOT, I COULD NEVER BE YOU.

But I am supposed to smile

And believe in SAID possibilities

I cannot complain, I can not assess, STATE HOW I FEEL-

But as I WRITE? Oh yes,

Do I, YES, will I,- BLUNTLY address-

As I play my part to move up the ladder of stature, VALUE, WORTH and success- I am not a joke

This is not a game

Or a MOCKERY

Do you KNOW what you see when you look at me?

Let me enlighten you on who stands before you, Ranequa La’Kae

And yes, that is my ENTIRE, very “ghetto” government identity

no nicknames, no short change.

You know, I’m just a happy-go-lucky kind of Black person –

A sort of, kind of, proud citizen

Forced to come here, and unfortunately don’t wanna leave

That is so AWFULLY ashamed

To identify as an American –

But here I am bitches

10 comments

  1. It’s kind of sad to hear this because I’m Kenyan and have always lived there and never thought of myself in terms of race because the majority of people were people of colour but after moving here I kind of always feel out of place and hyper aware of the fact that I’m not white. It’s not that people aren’t nice or accepting I don’t know what it is but I’m just constantly aware that I’m different.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. This perfectly captures the experiences that people of color go through. And while your story is unique to you, it gives me the strength to own my own story. ❤

    Liked by 1 person

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