It was a war begun, not by you or me, but by the souls of our ancestors fired up by the word Free.
A war took place, which left blood shed, and still the answers lie in those who are buried dead.
Whether you think it right or whether you think it wrong, the problem was still there so many years later; a march was lead on.
More lives were taken. Tears were the words unsaid of the sorrow of being different, feeling worthless, and seeing loved ones drowned, and beaten dead.
But remember, for every ancestor, culture, and race, there was always some fight that they had to face.
The war is over, the march is too, but I have to ask…Why still do some of you harbor those grudges, thoughts, and words once said?
Yes I know it was your culture, your ancestors, your race that had that fight to face.
Now look how many years ago that was… Don’t you think that we should let love take a place inside of us?
For if we don’t it will proceed, the never ending war shall live in thee.

He won't tell anyone that his love is colored. You see he's embarassed,she's not fair skinned or long haired like the others.
He hides her in a closet, just to please his mother.
He won't show her off like he's done the others.
She doesn't have to ask him why, because deep inside she knows it's because his love is colored.
She wishes she could change, all she wants is to be loved the same.
but she knows she's not good enough, feels shes not good enough.
He doesn't have to reply, for it would come out a lie, because deep inside she knows it's because his love is colored.
Her skin is dark but the inside is so bright; she's filled with love,wants,wishes,maybes, and mights.
He keeps her around just for fun, but he's breaking her heart...she's almost done.
She's so depressed nothing can help, all she wants is for him to love her, so she can finally learn to love herself.
No one sees her as a trophie,so he puts her on the highest shelf.
His love is colored, so he can't show or tell anyone else.

I have come to the realization, that I am beautiful and my black is too. From shade to shade, if you don't like it...well I'm sorry, because I do.
I am black and I am beautiful, so tell me... what are you?
For many years YOU have told me different and made sure I knew it too.
I was thought to be dumb, because I was black.
I was found ugly, because I was black. Oh yeah I was considered worthless too!
You seem to have, so many labels for me, but please tell me...what would you label you?
I am black and I am beautiful, so I really don't care what you do.
You can pass laws against my black, assign me tables or order me to sit in the back.
You can take my pride, my honor, take all that crap..but I'm just letting you know that I will still be black!
I am black and I am beautiful knowing this, now nothing can hold me back. You can put down my culture and my heritage, but I am still proud to be black!
I was born this way, and I am not sorry that I can't change it.
I'm not sorry that when I wake up I am black. When I go to sleep I am black. This black  I'm not sorry but it is here to stay. So why stress about it and waste your breath commenting... Trying to ruin my day? Then say if it was the 1800s you would be my master and I would be your slave???

This Black is here to tell you that in the end really I have really mastered and you are a slave. A slave  to your own jealousy and fear!
So judge me or judge me not but this Blacks love for all will never veer

If you would take the time to look past this black. You would see beauty, you would see happiness, and you would see kindness. Yes. If you took the time you would see all of that
If you would just take the time to look past this Black you would see courage, and integrity,  and you would also see ambition
This Black has goals, dreams, and just like you this black is wishin
If you would look past this Black you would see a great Mother, a great Sister,and a great Friend. You would  see this Blacks heart
it beats like yours and one day just like yours the beating will also end.
I am Black and I am beautiful so please tell me what are you?

I wish I knew my mother.
I wish I knew her favorite song, her favorite book, or her favorite color.
I wish I knew her hugs, the sound of her laugh; her family traditions for holidays, birthdays, just anything from her past.
I wish I knew why, why she gave me up, why she didn't try.
I wish I knew when, when she broke her heart and chose to never let anyone in.
I wish I knew how, how she never looked back, she doesn't care now and didn't care then.
I wish I knew my mother, I wish she would hold me in her arms, and we could say we loved each other.
I wish I knew, the way back in time to change my past... and maybe change her mind.
I wish I knew how to forgive my mother.
I don't hate her... I just really love her.

I am the girl who wakes up extra early to put on a face.
I put it on so good, No one would ever know the brokenness that I have to face.
Family never ask and friends can never tell
Only my pillow knows and is there to catch all of my tears.
Thank you to my pillow who knows my brokenness all to well.
I was sexually abused many of times to the point of hospitalization.
My family knew this family member who admitted to have harmed me, but gave me the
condemnation.
They gave me the evil looks, the you should have said something sooner speeches. The get over its
The it would be best if you would find somewhere else to live, oh and the oh your off our insurance too.
We dont care where you go... As long as we don't have to deal with you!
At church it began with the whispers, and then where I sat in a pew all alone as if I was the disease.
No knows how much I tried to hold my life together.
Only the Heavenly Father and my sore sore knees.
The family members who knew, never asked me
if I was okay, but they didn't know that I was contemplating taking my life every day.
From trying to  black out on alcohol and sleeping pills. Hoping I would wake up and this would all be a dream
To being successful with making that nuise out of my favorite blue bathrobe rope
My dad walked in EVERYTIME and gave me one more day to add to  my life which seemed like a treacherous timeline.
Was this God maybe, was he trying to save me and open up my eyes?
Some of them who knows that all this actually happened said it was for attention and I needed to just drop it, move on, let it go.
Well "you have become negative...maybe it is best if you go"
If I didn't feel like a slave in that house, I sure did now.
I feel like I literally did everything and there was still something my mom would bicker about.
I started noticing she would come up with basically anything to get my dad to kick me out.
I would drive to the park somedays and just sit in my car and cry.
I would drive down old back roads , and think would this world miss me when I die.
Family gatherings  where I once was welcome, I was no longer invited to
I spent thanksgiving all alone, just me and a box of tissues.
Friends invited me to their family events, but I was embarrassed.
I didn't want to intrude.
The friends who did know, I would call crying and they would not know what to say
For they have never felt this broken or had to feel this type of way.
I would sleep with a couch in front of my door and have an alarm set for 4 am
I could finally close my eyes and rest my tired head
4 am is when I felt like it was safe enough to close my eyes and be safe from my predator who crept in the night to finally go to bed
My friends said I was strong, but I really felt so weak.
I felt so gross, so worthless, so ashamed, and no one knew
After trying to recovery from my childhood, I will now have to recovery from this too.
I really would not be here today if it was not for the baby in my belly
And someone saying they would carry me the rest of the way.
these two are my world and the reason I get up every day.
So I am the girl who wakes up extra early to put on a face.
I put it on so well no one would know the brokenness that I have to face.

I live in this town that nobody knows, barely anyone comes, barely anyone goes
I wake up in this town and I am taught, to hate who I am, and die for what I’m not.
I live in this town where I get no respect; I’m not from money, so there is no one I can impress.
I live in this town where I am misunderstood; I came from a crack house, so I am tossed aside for I am no good. I live in this town that puts me down, for the color of my skin, for the scars on my brow. I live in this town where second chances are rarely seen. It was truly not my fault, I swear it wasn’t me. I live in this town that almost took my life. I believed what everyone was saying, so I picked up that knife. I took it to my wrists, then to my neck. I live in a town where everyone could care less. In this town I sit and see; how I was given up by my parents, families, and everyone around me. I live in this town where I feel like I have no worth, I could leave today and that would be seen as a blessing from this earth. I live in this town that makes me cry, because of where I came from, who I am, and I don’t know why. I live in this town that broke my heart. I just wanted a second chance; I just wanted a new start. I live in this town where I sit in class, staring at the clock, wanting it to pass. I live in this town where I am not strong enough to last; so I’m moving on and making this town my past. I live in this town that will one day see, all it’s hurt and envy me.

I ask myself Who will I be?
The path to my future is darkened, so I cannot see.
I try to do so many things, big things, never small; but I am not seen.
So I try to stand on my tip toes tall,
But soon I get pushed and knocked back down.
Saddened, bruised, I quickly fall to the ground;
My tears fall like rain flooding this empty drought,
of too many failures and disappointments to count.
The path took a turn, and to my surprise,
I found a key to a door, where all my answers lie. So I took the key, and yes I have it hidden. I open this door when I need answers or to be forgiven, but this isn’t enough for it’s not what I need. What I need to know is who will I be? Will I be my mother that gave me up? Will I be my father that didn’t give a…No that is not me, that is not what I want, that is not who I will be. Who I am is on these two feet. I stand here and tell my father, I will not be beat. I’m no longer broken; I’m strong and will never be weak.