The Struggle
The Struggle to stay strong
Is a shameful reality,
They say I don’t belong
And I tell them they have no morality
The visible difference is our skin
The invisible is our hearts,
My skin may be black under my chin,
But my heart sets me apart.
The judgment reeks of hate
And pours out on me with no stop
They try to tell me my fate
That I would end up like a mop
But I won’t clean up after any of them
They don’t deserve a thing
They feel they’re a gem
But they can’t even fit the ring
The fight is to be truly free,
As freedom doesn’t hold you back;
But it lets you be who you want to be,
Even if it means you’re black.
👁 5💬 0
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
No comments yet. Be the first to share your thoughts.
Log in to leave a comment.