The struggle of who i am

"White paper visages encrested with blue orbs all around me. The cold look of hatred is what gives me shivers.
      To them, the people of this clean and so called pure race looks down upon me for being of a descent that appears of sandy dessert skin with honey drop eyes.
    
The stares i receive aren't like the normal ones people get from acting peculiar and queer but this look is very distinctive, one with a sneer, one soo deeply penetrating to the soul, that rushes the utmost uncomfort and insecurity throughout my mind.

      Why i ask myself, do you people hate me? As i cry... why us of another shade that appears on our outershell determine our worth to you?
   Us that do not look like you of your supposed country, are mocked and ridiculed, our feelings are not considered, our say is a mere whisper to your howls in society.
   Throughout my whole life i've lived through this insanity, nothing we of the colored so called species to you, the "pure and wise civilized" can obtain anything close to your invisible privileges that are so well hidden, but yet only seen by us in this absurd system".

This poem is about: 
Me
My country

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