They ask me how it’s going.  All I say

Is shit I can’t complain.  Because deep

down I know they really don’t care.

I got too much passion in my soul.  I know they

can’t feel it.  I know they can’t see.  Their hatred remarks

no longer phase me.  I no longer treasure thee.

It use to make me cry when I use to try to aim for

the sky, and all of them told me not to aim so high.

And, I never us to ask why.

It is sad when you go home, and your own special kin, tell

you don’t bother .  No one here loves you or your special

kind.  You are no longer a part of us.  You my dear are

trying to act white.

Where do I belong?  I use to ask.

Now I have come to the conclusion, that I

am one who dances to my rhythm.  Most think that I

am off beat.   I really can’t contemplate their words or

consider defeat.

Call me sad, pathetic and hopeless, but I am naïve to

believe I should not have to pretend to be

something that I was not destined

to be.

I believe in things I can’t see.  And, I see things that others

around here are ignorant to believe.

I live everyday in my own special way.  Can you say the

same?

I ask myself over and over again, what is the point of

this senseless game.  Why do we put each other down?

Why do we choose to stay down?

Sometimes I wish, when people around here ask how

I am doing, I could share my taught, and feelings.

But, I know when they ask…

How are you doing?

My reply must be shit, I can’t complain.