How does it really feel?

She can’t bring me home to her parents, 

cuz it’s apparent the skin I’m wearin’ is too dark for her family to see,

it isn’t so easy to be me.

I put a smile on my face to try and hide the pain,

I put my soul in these lyrics and yet I still remain, Lost.

Lately I don’t talk because I feel rejected 

I’m wearin’ designer clothes so I can feel accepted, I feel depression 

What I feel is what you least expected, I feel the message isn’t clear enough,

but I feel your presence.

I’m more than desperate.

I’m more than all of it.

I’m more than a wardrobe.

I’m more than how much I can afford on stores that force the poor to pour their last

and more than that to satisfy the masses lack of awareness to societies trap.

History repeats itself.

We’re still segregated, disadvantaged, under-appreciated and hated for the purpose of what?

For the purpose of money, riches, funds, cash, 

Dead Presidents, who if were still alive would laugh, about the country they framed.

Hoods and Ghettos contain liquor and gun stores on every corner,

Causing the black youth to perform a

mass number of - It’s like they want us to kill each other.

Sure we don’t die from a lack of resources a lot of countries don’t have,

but In reality, we die mentally due to the hate and pain lurking from our past.

thank you.