My 'Native' tongue

You tell the class
that my brother and I
speak in our
Native Tounge at home

You make it seem
as if there is a hidden languge
my race hide inside our homes
our streets

The way you make it out
Blackness is a secret club
and to join
you must know the code

But let me explain something,
When I speak to my family
I speak with the same education,
with the same **** accent
and cadence than I do with my white brothers

I am not putting up any act of being more than I am
just because I'm with you white folk,
Except maybe when I talk to white folk like you
because then I have my child friendly gloves on
because there must be something
really ****** stupid with you that you would say to
my face that I am putting on an act when talking to my 'betters'

Lady, you aren't any better than I am
If anything you seem a little stupid in the head
Because to let yourself think you know anything
about the life of an African American woman -

When you grew up in a rich *** neighborhood
and have never had to deal with people treating you as
a lesser race because of the colour of your skin-

Woman I had no idea people could be that out of touch with the world around them.

You say I speak to my daddy with a certain lilt in my tone
because I can but away the act I'm playing day by day
because i has to be an act, doesn't it?
I can't just be an woman with dark skin who cares
about the world she lives in,
who wants to learn all she can to help those around her,

That act has to come with a costume that I hang up at the end of the night
makeup that gets smeared off and run down the drain

You say I speak to me mama at home with
shortened sentences,
accents and s's where they shouldn't be
In a loud voice that the white folks down the street can hear

But let me tell you one thing,

My mama is white, *****