I Challenge Your Racism With My Poetry

I stand there,
taking your hateful, tasteless stares.
But I don't dare cringe,
for I fear that would be giving you what you want.
I walk directly into your vile comments,
of painted skin, many fatherless children,
and the "gift" of welfare;
and I laugh.
Not just at you, but for you.
Because your only mistake is hating me,
for something not my fault.
Shoulder's back, head high, my confidence
tingles.
Seems I am the one who is higher than you.
Being white has nothing to do with.
If that were the case,
Society would fail evolution.
And well I'd be lost in time travel.
I know I can meet your bitter remarks
with utter kindness.
And continue to love who I am.
Because what you say doesn't affect me.
And you know how I know?
Because I love the dark tint of mine,
that sparkles with sun.
And how capable I am of greatness,
and have a long line of historians,
who proved there own.
And I laugh to myself and ask
what are you?

Poetry Slam: 

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