Hurdler

My mom used to tell me, " you can be anything you want to be."

But how can that be when societal views often describe me?

In their eyes since I am an African-American, I am a threat.

Since my melanin is dangerous, injustice in my life is a must.

Injustice displayed after my death, despite my pleads for him not to shoot

as my hands rose in surrender, despite the protest across the country,

my murder was let off easy.

But, what else is new? Minorities make up the biggest population of those incarcerated

yet the biggest murders, who even shoot up schools, are free or in a mental institute.

In their eyes since I am a woman, I am less than.

Less than that of a man, since we came from you,

But we provide life. After nine months we endure an excruciating labor,

Something you could never do, and still we continue to compete with you.

But you don't see our value, that's why you continue to earn more than we do,

Despite us doing the same job.

In MY EYES, I am a hurdler.

I do not cower away in defeat when obstacles are thrown at me,

I hurdle through because I am not what they see. I am what I see,

a strong, intelligent, black teen reaching the goals set for me to be anything I want to be.

This poem is about: 
Me
My country
Our world

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