by ISIAH
Forced to read literature about things unknown,
like racism and segregation, to open my blind eyes to things I needed to know,
learning about Malcolm and Martin fighting interracial crime
like apartheid or the dark side or similar slavery in its prime,
my view widened with knowledge of past problems explained in depth.
Black culture grew as each page got flipped,
and when people of different races said racist phrases I’d flip.
I didn’t wanna know just one side because I’m racially mixed,
so when I looked in the mirror I didn’t see a hypocrite.
I’d read the wrongdoings of both sides in the ethical war,
like the Black Panthers or KKK hunting for sport.
I was oblivious to the treacherous ways of the past.
But now I know the past and I live in the past’s future.
No more judging—white doesn’t mean preppy, black doesn’t mean stupid.
After I read that book, I know
ignorance judges by the color of the blanket around the bones,
and since I know I have black stripes and white stripes,
you don’t have to be the same color as me to be my family or friend.
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