Updated: Jun 19
It seems like I keep finding myself stuck in the middle,
between an easy place and a spot that gets difficult.
It’s hard to decipher which way my mind should bend,
when I’m stuck in the middle trying to keep up with the trends.
By trends I’m not talking about what’s popular to y’all..
I’m talkin’ about the shit that keeps black folks feelin’ small.
The stuff that we see up on our screens like everyday.
The shit that’s become normalized in every single way.
You see being mixed you get to look into a lens,
You see half yourself getting murdered on our screens.
You look into the mirror and you see the other half,
refusing to admit that most they policies is trash.
It’s not one, not two, not three, not four,
These police officers are out here huntin’ like it’s war.
We’re wanting to survive,
but they’re not giving us a chance..
Some of you may include me but most of y’all don’t understand.
You see being mixed it’s hard to find yourself an in.
You’re too black for the white kids,
but too light for your friends.
You’re too smart for the groupies,
but too dumb for AP.
Once again I’m stuck up in the middle,
questioning all of these things.
One time I got arrested,
and they marked down as black.
How could one half of who I am
fit the entire box that’s checked?
The good stats go toward the white side,
and the bad ones turn to brown..
It’s always hard to choose which side I’m going to let down.
One day I wanted to write something that for once I could relate,
Instead of always feeling stuck and wanting to retaliate.
The goal is to be inclusive, but mainly to be safe,
I wanted to create a space that would have all of these things.