You Don’t Know Me

You don’t know me

My skin is white
That is not who i am

People say what they want to
But they don’t know
They don’t see
The good
In me

They talk the talk
And walk the walk
But the slack on their back
Is the weight of the pieces they hack
At my heart,
My life,
My pride,
My appearance

They say what they see
They see me as a racist
But i’m not
Just because my past is a bad representation
That does not mean that is me
I know me,
You don’t know me

This poem makes me...
  • Think (50%)
  • Smile (0%)
  • Somber (0%)
  • Surprised (50%)
  • Feel a Connection (0%)
  • Inspired (0%)