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Labels : Poem 4 of my: Six: Spoken Word Poetry: anthology

They told me that I'm too white because of the way that I behave,

Well the colour of my skin is just that -the colour of my skin.

And I don't even know what white is,

Or black or mixed-racial for that matter.

But I know that I do what I feel called to do,

And act in ways that are just my nature.

To classify what I'm called to do and the nature that is me,

I doubt you could fit that under one category or any to be honest.

When I'm going through a sad and unmotivated phase,

That's called depression.

Yet saying the word depression is more depressing than what I feel.

I can make a ton of friends just by saying the name of someone that I know who everyone else knows,

But the funny thing is no one actually knows the person, Just their name and what that means.

Like how saying Robin Williams would immediately mean comedy,

But his cause of death is not something I would laugh about.

Like how calling Christianity a religion immediately brings up do's and don'ts.

Yet Jesus did the don'ts and his disciples didn't do the do's.

Like how life is supposed to mean living,

Yet most living people have dead souls.

The one with the PhD gets the job,

But they have never had experience working in the field.

The most passionate and innovate woman can barely apply,

Just because she doesn't have a masters even though she's a master in the skills she has.






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