Beauty has always been skin deep
Ignorant to the flesh around me
Simmer so astoundingly
A breathless lie indeed
This is all you see as I try to hide
A fact upon a wooden spoon slapped across a cheek
Don’t worry, your lies was beaten into me
Beautiful is not what you think it is
Earth splayed across my skin
Try to scrub it free
Panic cause I know inside
Beautiful was never skin deep
Forget the lies you tell me
Simmer all in one
Pat the snow unto my flesh and pretend it is my own
Walk with my head to the dust
Copper tones turned to rust
Flakes off doubt begin to seep
Do not bother lying to me
I know where I stand today
Always hated yet in demand
A prize to be won and then forgotten
I know what I am to you
I know that I am bound to lose
Simmered in long-held doubt
I know what my life is truly about
Whether black as tar
Or white as light
I will not matter by the end of the night
My skin is judged
Hated by the abused
And the guilt-ridden oppressors
No matter the color of their skin
In their eyes
I will never fucking win
Open a list of half-baked rules
Slice me to and fro
In the end, it means nothing
Cause my skin is all this world knows.
Whether from friend or foe
I will be judged by this cookie cutter mold
Beauty is skin deep all but me
Because nothing I do will ever please
Fuck this shit don’t lie to me
Say it is all in my head when over
And over again
You cut with me your half-baked lies
Cookie cutter mold never will fit just right
To which method would you to slice?
Mud colored skin never looked so dirty
Against those who said they will always love me
Whether black or white
In the end
No matter what I do.
I will never win.
I am an American who just so happens to have ancestors from Africa. I deal with Racism a lot but not in forms others are willing to talk about.
Because if the way I talk, my interests, the way I dress…everything. I am judged by the world. Black people want nothing to do with me same as other races. They say that we are all brothers and sisters and yet I am excluded because of who I am inside.
My skin plays a big part in how people look at me. They think that I need to act or look a certain way or I can’t belong.
Even people who are open-minded have this lovely mold in place for me. See freedom is a lie. Freedom is basically every living in someone’s version of Harmony. What it is good for the people as a whole is not always a good thing.
People expect others to step up and live their dream with them but that is not fair. We all have our own ideas of perfect. Freedom isn’t fair…it truly isn’t. Someone is always going to be left in the dust