I’m a good person but,
like many men
I’m not perfect,
The church wouldn’t gel with me
because I’m not so close to God
The Muslim faith calls it Jihad.
That in English
translates to struggle.
I’m a good person but
I don’t always deal on the level.
I am imperfect,
because I sin.
I do not blame any man but me
for the situation I’m in,
it’s less so physical
and mostly mental
shall I let the children touch my face
and shed tears to prove that I was gentle?
Or should I let them pass judgement
on what my outside perceives?
Let the world believe what it believes,
after all the trouble we’ve been in
regarding my skin,
I feel like it’s too late in the world
for my melanin
to be an issue.
To be official,
the fact that my beautycould be skin deep
and I don’t want to talk about superficial issues.
I’m a good person but
just like everyone, I have demons,
and sometimes I hear them screaming.
And anyone could tell you
it isn’t easy to tell them to stop it,
because in order to get dressed every morning
you have to face the skeletons in your closet
because that’s where I keep my clothes,
that perhaps I’m prone to prose,
prose and nicotine,
and sometimes my vernacular isn’t always clean,
but lately, I’ve even started to pull up my jeans.
What does that mean?
Dressed on the level, so could you tell me why
old ladies hold their purses tight when I walk by
these people multiply
and it’s hard to keep your nose up to the sky
when some people think it’s fun
to dial nine one,
and keep a finger on the one.
I’m not on the run,
but I am on a roll,
I’m a good person
even though my lungs are black as coal,
I wish I could show the world my soul
so that I could prove that I was whole
Prove that of our imagination, color could be a figment,
proving this skin is only flesh
and that this melanin is only pigment.
I am not racist, I do not care about racism, I don’t care about racist terms or anything like that, but what honestly actually hurts is seeing that someone who isn’t actually prejudiced cower simply at your being, belying their true beliefs about themselves despite this day and age, and on the flip, perhaps if people stopped isolating themselves from one another, maybe it wouldn’t be such a big deal, because whomever should read this, I eat shit and sleep same as you.