Black

I am Black.

No, Not the color of my skin.

No, not the color of my hair.

I am not black externally but internally.

I am the product of a broken home.

No, not husband against wife.

Brother against brother. 

Brother against sister.

Mother.

Father.

Niece. 

Nephew.

I have loving parents,

Though I myself do not feel loved.

When your godfather will not look you

In the eye,

When your best friend turns into someone

You do not know,

When your sister tears you down

At every second,

'You are not good enough'

'You are not worthy'

Then you can speak to me about who I am.

Because maybe then

You'd understand.

I am good enough.

I am worthy.

But I am still

Black.