A poem, reflecting my childhood.

He inst there when you are born and live your life as you was meant to.Sometimes he takes you early and at other times when you are old.But rest assured that he will come to you when it is your time to meet him. You can go calmly or try to put up a fight,in the end he wins every time.

Describing what its like to be judged.

Poets are artists, too.

I’m just tired of being judged.

This was inspired by a book I read while attending Appalachian State University. The book is about young black male adolescents who are treated unfairly by teachers and students.

Judged by what you wear.

Ever been second? Third? Fourth? Placated? Delegated?

Judging and being judged.