tough to despise

On February 7, 2016
a poem by [lylah]

Is it because my hair is long,
a stream of black? Or because
it goes halfway down my back?
Or is because I’m lighter
than a paper sack, and the next
black girl isn’t like that?
Is it because she has little
naps, and they say I act
white—I’m not the real black?
Could you explain that?

Is it because their pants hang
low or their music is rap,
R&B or soul? Or because
they are darker than you?
Outsiders think our nice rides
are stolen cars. They call
the lighter ones like me
beauty stars. Do you know how

hard we’ve been fighting
to get this far. This death,
the broadcasting of riots.
It’s taught, with birth,
racism isn’t brought. Kids
raised to be sold and bought.
We are also blessed with love
from the most precious God
above. Racism is not tough
to despise.

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