PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

Who?


I am 17 years old, top 100 in my class I am 5' 11" 165 pounds, with an athletic build I am a Junior in high school with dreams of becoming an engineer I live on a quiet street in the suburbs I pay for school lunch every day I am a captain, on the speech team I am an adequate dresser I wear glasses without lenses I wear boots because I can I wear Jordan's because I can I wear a shirt and tie when I can because it makes me feel good I used to live in what some call "the ghetto" Ebonics is my second language I was raised on the Queens English I'm always complimented on my articulation, never my intelligence I'm often told I act white, don't really know what that means I read the news and feel disgusted, I wonder when that will end I wonder what I should call my race, it seems to change with each person I speak to I have been called a nigger many times before, But I've never been harassed by the police, I've been watched in many stores before, Though I've never been interrogated I find myself called African-American I thought I was American I don't know what to call myself, though I will accept my name, My name carries many races, many cultures But I don't know what to claim as my own I now refute the title American, it no longer means the same thing, I have however found that others seem to know exactly what I am How I'm not sure, but they all seem to know So if you could please indulge me, tell me Who do you think I am?
©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

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.