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"biracial" poems
my mother has blue eyes but I'm still a ****** my mother has blonde hair but I'm still a ****** my daddy is black as night but I'm still a ******* my daddy has ***** curls but I'm still a ******* I call this hash tag the struggle because to be biracial is nothing more because to be biracial is nothing less than a struggle to find who I am to find who I should be to find who I'm supposed to be i really wish they were the same person i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle but you don't and you won't so stop telling me about my good hair and stop telling about my high yellow skin and stop telling me my parents have the fever and stop staring at me when I walk in and stop trying to guess which parent is black and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish No I'm not Spanish. No I don't speak Spanish. No You CANNOT touch my hair Yes, my nose is in the air Of course I think I'm the **** Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with ...out of my control Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks See you don't even know me but you think these are my goals see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole when you're given two halves that don't match to patch up one soul and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know and they tell you to ignore them all be yourself race should not define you but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you hash tag TheStruggle
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Apr 10, 2014
Apr 10, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
#TheStruggle
my mother has blue eyes but I'm still a ****** my mother has blonde hair but I'm still a ****** my daddy is black as night but I'm still a ******* my daddy has ***** curls but I'm still a ******* I call this hash tag the struggle because to be biracial is nothing more because to be biracial is nothing less than a struggle to find who I am to find who I should be to find who I'm supposed to be i really wish they were the same person i really wish you understood hash tag the struggle but you don't and you won't so stop telling me about my good hair and stop telling about my high yellow skin and stop telling me my parents have the fever and stop staring at me when I walk in and stop trying to guess which parent is black and stop trying to guess which parent is spanish No I'm not Spanish. No I don't speak Spanish. No You CANNOT touch my hair Yes, my nose is in the air Of course I think I'm the **** Because I live my life trying to be better than women who are dark skinned ...with something I was born with ...out of my control Of course I try to flaunt my plush lips around the white girls who get botox who then become the have nots because I've stolen all the brothas hearts from the city and the boondocks See you don't even know me but you think these are my goals see I call this hash tag the struggle because nobody understands the trouble in being whole when you're given two halves that don't match to patch up one soul and you're born into a ****** up mess still expected to know and they tell you to ignore them all be yourself race should not define you but I can't even fill out two ******* boxes on a standardized test because you are only allowed to check ONE to describe you hash tag TheStruggle
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55
I have the unfortunate belief that my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair. It may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Go ahead, touch my hair. I feed off of your fascination -though I remain engaged only as long as you do- my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length. I once had someone tell me "I like your hair better straight" And that was when fifth grade ruined me. I thought by changing they would accept me. And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor and all of my likes would be returned and Eddie would choose me because we were best friends and I had the fortune of being beautiful but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because I have this hair. People wonder why I spend hours with an iron. But when you're so different that boys won't like you because your hair is curly and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to change the things that are in your power. I could never make myself fully white But I sure as hell can straighten my hair and let Mamaw buy me braces. They can call you giraffe neck still, but at least your hair is straight like everyone else. Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft" But why on earth should that matter to me? People respect my hair because it is mine. But he will not love it unless it is like hers- wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist. I weep for my hair. I weep for my hair. You do not understand how different it is. You do not understand how hard it is to stick out like a sore thumb because your genetics were oppressed for 500 years. I am ugly Because of my hair. No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter because I cannot see it. He cannot see it either.
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May 10, 2014
May 10, 2014 at 2:15 AM UTC
The Biracial Blues (A Tale of Curly Hair)
I have the unfortunate belief that my self-worth lies in the quality of my hair. It may sound ridiculous, but it's true. Go ahead, touch my hair. I feed off of your fascination -though I remain engaged only as long as you do- my tolerance for my hair is equivalent to its length. I once had someone tell me "I like your hair better straight" And that was when fifth grade ruined me. I thought by changing they would accept me. And Daniel would like me like he liked Taylor and all of my likes would be returned and Eddie would choose me because we were best friends and I had the fortune of being beautiful but I wasn't allowed to be beautiful to him because I have this hair. People wonder why I spend hours with an iron. But when you're so different that boys won't like you because your hair is curly and you teeth are crooked you have no choice but to change the things that are in your power. I could never make myself fully white But I sure as hell can straighten my hair and let Mamaw buy me braces. They can call you giraffe neck still, but at least your hair is straight like everyone else. Yes, you like to touch it and it's "neat" and it's "soft" But why on earth should that matter to me? People respect my hair because it is mine. But he will not love it unless it is like hers- wind-caught silk that hangs to her waist. I weep for my hair. I weep for my hair. You do not understand how different it is. You do not understand how hard it is to stick out like a sore thumb because your genetics were oppressed for 500 years. I am ugly Because of my hair. No number of people telling me of its beauty will matter because I cannot see it. He cannot see it either.
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43
i'm biracial no i'm not an oreo no i ain't your zebra i ain't the best of both your worlds i ain't mulatto either i am white and i am black living my life with a sense of inequality my race always seems to follow me no matter where i'm at white people have jokes black people have questions my hair appeals to some of you while the rest of you have suggestions who said i needed you to tell me who to be? who said i needed to explain who i really am underneath? striving to be normal and thriving to be equal i just so happen to be a white girl that knows what it's like to be black and that bothers a lot of people my race may not define me but it is apart of who i am so yes i get offended when you refuse to understand that i am what i am black and white white and black light brown complexion ***** curls front to back a strong black woman resides inside and it's she you see a white woman is there but will never be but i never deny my lines culturally because they are me
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Sep 2, 2015
Sep 2, 2015 at 12:56 AM UTC
MiXeD
1. babies 2. biracial hair 3. seeing my mother in love 4. the smell of nail salons 5. praise & worship 6. ny-is-thegoal 7. perfect execution
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Jun 11, 2014
Jun 11, 2014 at 4:38 AM UTC
7 Things That Make Me Happy
My father is black and my mother is white And though we live in a new generation I still find myself having to give explainations on how all of this works The ignorance of race really hurts No this is not good hair No you can't touch it keep your ******* hands to yourself No I'm not Mexican or Puerto Rican Stop guessing above all else I'm black like you And I'm white like her I'm flesh and blood not claws and fur But see you don't want to accept me Of course unless I'm president Obama or Halle Berry Did you know they were mixed? Or were you so deep in the lime light you don't care Because on the streets I'm not considered black no matter how coarse my hair I use relaxers too I've had my hair braided I've been called ****** I've been followed in stores I've been sent to the end of the line for no reason Denied friendship for seasons And wouldn't you know (Being black was the reason) But its just not enough to gain any trust I don't look anything like white people so I dont even try Only hope for full acceptance from the other side And yet still I'm left feeling quite empty inside Where the hell do I fit in? Who's on my side? Since claiming black or white is considered a crime This was when I decided to become an advocate of self I found who I was Didn't need any help I don't let my race define who I am But I embrace both my colors They work well with each other And that's something society just will not understand
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Mar 23, 2014
Mar 23, 2014 at 11:21 AM UTC
biracial
the bass hits, the drum rolls Being a victim of a spilt decision of a racial war at 10 years old Was never told, a way to be, but my fathers legacy, made me look at one side painfully cold Wide awake, as I lay my head On the belief my kind is dead The proper stereotype of a white kid But the preference to black kids outfit Putin on a show, to simply fit in Not knowin were the **** I should of truly been The constant pain of feelin like **** A young man who is confusingly mixed... ... I see a star who shines bright, in a darken night, Did you know, not all stars shine white? They're shades of black, just remember that...why couldn't I see this logic way back? Another poser, who's addicted to rap.. "Ya not black" like what kind of stupid **** is that? You speak a way, but was always consider white Do you see the mixed feeling? ******* mixed signs!? Why can't ya accept me for just me? Why can't ya just learn to love me? Why who I am means I have act a certain way!? that kinda **** makes me doubt people everyday! My verses struggle with a troubled hook! Can you see me now? Have you even looked? A black father, who showed me fear A white mother, who's voice I hear! Another song, sharing my lies! Another fight, with my dark side! When will ya get it and just put this **** to rest? You judge so much, make it hard to be my best Your words are a bullet! Penetratin my chest, I done clean up my act but you keep making another mess I'm tired of trying to please you, tired of trying to defeat you Ya minds are so glassy, it obvious to see through. **** you, be gone! Stop and please carry on! Fly away! Take a trip don't tell me when ya landin You all pushed me so much...........yet I'm still standin...standin...standin....but I will be gone, soon.
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Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 2:32 PM UTC
"Biracial Disorder"
the bass hits, the drum rolls Being a victim of a spilt decision of a racial war at 10 years old Was never told, a way to be, but my fathers legacy, made me look at one side painfully cold Wide awake, as I lay my head On the belief my kind is dead The proper stereotype of a white kid But the preference to black kids outfit Putin on a show, to simply fit in Not knowin were the **** I should of truly been The constant pain of feelin like **** A young man who is confusingly mixed... ... I see a star who shines bright, in a darken night, Did you know, not all stars shine white? They're shades of black, just remember that...why couldn't I see this logic way back? Another poser, who's addicted to rap.. "Ya not black" like what kind of stupid **** is that? You speak a way, but was always consider white Do you see the mixed feeling? ******* mixed signs!? Why can't ya accept me for just me? Why can't ya just learn to love me? Why who I am means I have act a certain way!? that kinda **** makes me doubt people everyday! My verses struggle with a troubled hook! Can you see me now? Have you even looked? A black father, who showed me fear A white mother, who's voice I hear! Another song, sharing my lies! Another fight, with my dark side! When will ya get it and just put this **** to rest? You judge so much, make it hard to be my best Your words are a bullet! Penetratin my chest, I done clean up my act but you keep making another mess I'm tired of trying to please you, tired of trying to defeat you Ya minds are so glassy, it obvious to see through. **** you, be gone! Stop and please carry on! Fly away! Take a trip don't tell me when ya landin You all pushed me so much...........yet I'm still standin...standin...standin....but I will be gone, soon.
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34
White skin Black blood Devil's curls Eyes that pierce You couldn't pick me from the crowd And say that I was black But I'll be **** sure, you're aware of that I've got a chip on my shoulder With a furrowed brow And vendettas whispered from the graves Silence was compliance Now I'm screaming loud
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Nov 10, 2016
Nov 10, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC
Biracial Anthem
I call my father's father Ye-Ye because he is a traditionalist and the word grandfather reminds him of England. My mother calls him a selfish ******* because he never approved of her wallet's emptiness and walked out of her wedding. My father calls him an immature ***** because he throws temper tantrums at eighty-seven and still doesn't respect anyone. When I was five, I stayed over alone for the first time. I accused him of trying to poison me because I found a dead fly in my soup. When I was ten, I found a coupon at the market And got him a free box of Cheerios. When I was thirteen, I was sitting with him outside. I got stung by a bee and didn't say a word. I have not seen my grandfather in seven years. He has since almost died four times. My aunt calls him a racist snob because he refused to put my biracial cousin's picture on the mantle and boasts of his friend's grandchildren instead.
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Jul 8, 2013
Jul 8, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
Grandfather
I’m Biracial. Which did you notice first? The me that looks like you or the me that looks like other? There is no denying what I am— from my last name to the shape of eyes, you’ll know I’m not white. But you’ll also immediately notice I’m not quite not white. I’m not quite not white enough. White-passing. “extremely” white passing until: someone sees my last name takes longer than five seconds to look at me notices something “other” about me. Other... not one box to check on your “optional” choose one diversity survey Can’t check White. Can’t check Asian. other...“Decline to Answer” I’m Biracial. White-passing— but not enough to stop ignorance ignorance in the form of questions and comments meant to be “harmless” or “curious” but ones that strip me of defining my own identity “So are you a math Asian or a **** Asian?” “You don’t look Asian enough for your last name.” “Why are you trying to whitewash yourself for them?” “Diversity quota” And in comparison, those aren’t the worst things to hear. By age ten I knew which words were meant to hurt and which were meant out of ignorance. Which racial slur applied to me. I’m Biracial. The same system that builds up half of me tears down the other half. But— The model minority myth means something to you. So you’ll build my other half up at the expense of someone else. You’ll make me feel uncomfortable in my own identity to fit what you need in the circumstances Statistics to fit your workplace diversity quota But still white passing so you can use micro aggressions as a joke because I’m “white enough” that they should be funny. I’m Biracial. Not other. Not part you and part not you. Not “missing” something. I am wholly biracial.
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Feb 4, 2019
Feb 4, 2019 at 4:50 AM UTC
Enough of What?
I’m Biracial. Which did you notice first? The me that looks like you or the me that looks like other? There is no denying what I am— from my last name to the shape of eyes, you’ll know I’m not white. But you’ll also immediately notice I’m not quite not white. I’m not quite not white enough. White-passing. “extremely” white passing until: someone sees my last name takes longer than five seconds to look at me notices something “other” about me. Other... not one box to check on your “optional” choose one diversity survey Can’t check White. Can’t check Asian. other...“Decline to Answer” I’m Biracial. White-passing— but not enough to stop ignorance ignorance in the form of questions and comments meant to be “harmless” or “curious” but ones that strip me of defining my own identity “So are you a math Asian or a **** Asian?” “You don’t look Asian enough for your last name.” “Why are you trying to whitewash yourself for them?” “Diversity quota” And in comparison, those aren’t the worst things to hear. By age ten I knew which words were meant to hurt and which were meant out of ignorance. Which racial slur applied to me. I’m Biracial. The same system that builds up half of me tears down the other half. But— The model minority myth means something to you. So you’ll build my other half up at the expense of someone else. You’ll make me feel uncomfortable in my own identity to fit what you need in the circumstances Statistics to fit your workplace diversity quota But still white passing so you can use micro aggressions as a joke because I’m “white enough” that they should be funny. I’m Biracial. Not other. Not part you and part not you. Not “missing” something. I am wholly biracial.
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46
What does it mean to be me, The soul of a brother, In the light skin of another.. Mulatto. That biracial boy with white walls And white bars, A prison of stolen identity. White & Black/ Black & White Day & Night/ Night & Day I'm the gray and the dusk inbetween
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Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 10:31 PM UTC
Inside the Outsider
Señor Garcia Marquez Whatever did you mean When you wrote of life And of death by family I'm in love with Prudencio Aguilar's ghost Roaming about the Buendía household Hole in his throat Washing out the wound But what did you mean?! I'm in love with Do it yourself chastity belts And Ursula's fear of *** But why is this even a theory Your concept behind biracial inbreeding And Señor do not get me started On Melquíades and José Arcadio Buendía Because that friendship was Fated to be doomed I mean no disrespect in all this I just want to know Why use Macondo as an allegory For the Angel Gabriel You're genius, really But your run on paragraphs Infuriate every ounce of my writing soul You're a Columbian Tolstoy I mean that as no insult Your works are tremendous and outstanding But what am I doing You're now just an old dead man "Under the ground" So now I belong to figure out Why Pilar needs to fill a void Opened by a ****** And why Colonel Aureliano Buendía Thinks of his fond memory of ice Just before being killed I've paid my respects to your work Please pay respects to my search
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Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 3:57 PM UTC
Gabriel Garcia Márquez
dis here speech addresses all colors this speech addresses all colors try to appreciate life try ta appreciate life feel me? try ta respect everyone try to respect everyone yo maybe eved try ta love people maybe even try to love people tis be what i done been learnin' in stationary treatment   that's what i've been learnin in stationary treatment if ya don't embrace such values if you don't embrace such values try at least tolerating others: you's black, white and biracial brothers your black, biracial and white brothers don't forget you's sisters don't forget your sisters: black, biracial, white 24 hours be made of day and night 24 hours are made of day and night ya feel me? do you understand? every man be a mister every man is a mister every woman be a lady every woman is a lady racists are lazy racists be lazy since they don't want to understand "others" since dey don't finna understand "others" lovin', tho, be de best mood to make it trough dis state that we call life. loving, though, is the best mood to make it through this state that we call life.   from me to you: from me to you: MUCH COLORBLIND LOVE
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Jan 13, 2020
Jan 13, 2020 at 2:55 PM UTC
Colorblind Speech
Love rests his arm against mine. Together, we make cinnamon sugar. Mixing metals, In the unity of silver and gold.
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Oct 6, 2016
Oct 6, 2016 at 1:17 PM UTC
Biracial
Nature is trying to roll over you Chew you up and reincarnate you I walked out of my poetry reading having declared whiteness is a mental illness As I was being told which poems were their favorites A woman passing by overheard them say “mixed race” She said to me, “Cain?” I said what from the bible? She said no “biracial Cain.” There was a long pause and she could tell I didn’t know what she meant She said, “Cain was my step son.” “He just killed himself in his cell the other day… because the police were harassing him about being black and white.” I felt so desperate to help I told her I’m trying to change things I cannot bring back her step son I put a ski mask on and said come with me
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Jun 16, 2016
Jun 16, 2016 at 7:25 PM UTC
reality is checking up on us tonight...
Sir/madam genderfluid, xe calls to me ****** heart bricked like a dead battery news of fear hits xis soul like an update from mom on your pornhub roll we're all #1 now there's not much to dread when good and God are everything including dead Xe responds defensively to this misty accusation a biracial silver tongue dry in xis mouth shame brought to the soy-powered community, Eye forgot, again, that unity isn't really unity spoke the wrong hashviolence which proves xheir point - off with its head & burn down the whole joint.
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 8:55 AM UTC
Fake Everything
When a traditional Music and dance, Accentuating A century-old bilateral Ties, took place A biracial and mesmeric Greek goddess, With chocolate Lucy's face, Exhibiting elegance And radiant face, With splendour Leased in the citadel of My heart a place Making it palpitate Picking pace Driving home The cross breeding of This with that race At times lends human beings Unmatched grace! ///
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Mar 25, 2017
Mar 25, 2017 at 10:10 AM UTC
Unmatched Grace
dis here speech addresses all colors this speech addresses all colors try to appreciate life try ta appreciate life feel me? try ta respect everyone try to respect everyone yo maybe eved try ta love people maybe even try to love people if ya don't embrace such values if you don't embrace such values try at least tolerating others yous black, white and biracial brothers your black, biracial and white brothers don't forget yous sisters don't forget your sisters: black, biracial, white 24 hours be made of day and night 24 hours are made of day and night ya feel me? do you understand? every man be a mister every man is a mister every woman be a lady every woman is a lady racists are lazy racists be lazy since they don't want to understand "others" since dey don't finna understand "others" lovin', tho, be de best mood to make it trough dis state that we call life loving, though, is the best mood to make it through this state that we call life
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May 11, 2020
May 11, 2020 at 4:52 PM UTC
Colorblind Speech II
Awe Evie you came here fighting. Pulling the oxygen out of your nose. Trying to get out of the incubator you were not having it little girl. You are such a doll baby with a beautiful face. I love your orange hair I can't wait to see what color it will turn out to be. You are named after me Ms. Evieana Lillian. I'm named after my grandmother which makes you the third. My grandmother had red hair she was biracial just like you. So it's so cute that you have her name orange hair and spunky attitude. I thank you for being strong enough to fight. Wonderful enough to love and a small bundle enough to hug and kiss on. You are my Lilly boo and I thank Jehovah that I got the chance to meet you❤.
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Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 2:52 AM UTC
My Evie
I envy those that have never found themselves asking if they were alone. To be Frank. I’d have to change my name. Though if I’m being honest. It terrifies me. The thought of you feeling like I do.
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Oct 5, 2020
Oct 5, 2020 at 5:40 PM UTC
I’m racist towards biracial Amish *********** skinheads
A lot of people Seem to dislike me I suppose I could claim It's because I'm a (bold) Female Or because my kids are biracial Or blah, blah, blah A lot of people don't like me Apparently Because I'm me
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Jun 28, 2018
Jun 28, 2018 at 11:11 AM UTC
Dislike
i will never be enough for you. not white enough, not latina enough for you. not straight enough, not gay enough for you. but i will be biracial enough, bisexual enough for me.
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Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 9:40 PM UTC
bi