Thursday, November 1, 2012


You think you know me.
One look at my skin and you instantly
      label me.
The texture of my hair confirms your beliefs you think.
Not once have you attempted to hear my voice.
In your mind I'm just a stereotype.
Loud, obnoxious, neck rolling angry and dangerous.
That's who you think I am.

If you took a moment to open your eyes, free your
    mind and listen,
Then and only then would you begin to know me.
For you see I am more than the color of my skin.
And quite frankly the texture of my hair doesn't even
    begin to unravel who I am.
The only belief you have correct is dangerous.

Dangerous without a doubt because I know who I am.
I stand proud, strong and humbled on the shoulders and
    backs of those who have paved my way.
Knowing that my voice and intellect gives me power.
I will never be your stereotype.
Never will I live down to your expectations.
If you want to know who I am, dare to raise yourself
    up to my expectations.

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