I am loud, because I'm black.

I am ignorant, because I'm black.

I have an attitude, because I'm black...right?

You see, you think you know me.

You think you know everything about me, because I'm black.

To you I am nothing,

nothing but a color.

nothing but a cluster of opinions and judgements.

But see you don't know me.

You don't know the contents of my soul,

my hopes, my dreams, you don't know what I've seen.

You don't know my pains.

You don't know what irks me.

You don't know that the things that you say can hurt me.

I can't just be pretty; I have to be pretty "for a black girl".

You make your ignorant comments about the way my hair curls.

The lies, the judgements, the unfair opinions, they all hurt.

The labels like nigga or colored make me feel like dirt.

Not like the person I am inside.

Not like the person that I'm trying to find.

Now don't get me wrong,

I am proud to be me.

I don't know about you,

but I look in the mirror and love what I see.

I am proud to be black and a person of color,

And I am proud to not let myself be labeled by another.

I am beautiful.

My hair is curly but I get this thing called a relaxer because personally I prefer it straight,

I'll have Chinese, Italian, and chicken on my plate.

I can wiggle my neck and use slang when I talk.

Not because I'm black,

but because I'm me.

And I was made by God,

in his image,

Exactly how I am supposed to be.