Young lady gave me the look, the same one the mother gave me the previous day I walked by, I guess the hate is genetically motivated. They looked at me until I became what they were looking for. A giant being full of the melanin. I won't let my tears drop for this, am a being, I'll keep walking till I become one of them.

"I'm an open book"
She says

Written in
code.

He writes poetry
But no one knows

He writes poetry
He writes about love
And loss

He writes about smiles
And frowns

He writes about sorrow
And forgotten towns

He writes about how lost he gets
Caught up in his own mind

He writes poetry to
And about others

But no one knows

Know one knows the depth of his soul
Because they all choose to see the exterior
And that exterior screams

Preppy
And preppy
Don't have souls

Or so they thought
Until the day he was consumed
By his own poetry

We brought breakfast.
You fed us; we let you.
We sighed and we said that
we'd never forget you; we get you.
And then we licked our
spoons and we left you.

Grow up, they said
but even as I did
I lost some child like wonder

Now. All I could ever want
Is to grow back down.