What's Funny?

You know what's funny?

I have been called white.

Not because of the way I speak or the way I act,

But because of the music I listen to.

You know what's interesting?

I've been told I act like a boy..

Not because I can do math or because I can do science,

But because I like to wera boy clothes.

Poetry is my friend, the person I go to when life gets hard. 

What she often tells me stabs my heart like its a shard.

A guardian who protects me against the opinions like those from above.

she found me when I was six years old. 

I was laying in the dirt, covered in grime and soot, clothes ripped.

And she said, "I will help you express what you have tried so hard to repress."

My Mother wasn't there all the time and my Father made jokes that weren't funny. 

You know the ones, "You're juicy and big, you look pregnant."

Each time, battle scars appeared each from a separate battle, some from a prolonged war.

Each time Poetry came her sweet words filled my mind, caressing my thoughts, and healing my wounds.

Poetry was one of Gods guardian angels, sent to me for my protection.

As a poet I have been pulled up by my boot straps and reformed. 

A cold exterior protects a warm interior and poetry has allowed that warmth to seep through.

I help others through my words and as I stand agianst the opinions and accusations, poetry stands with me, my pencil my weapon and Poetry itself my shield.