December 23, 2009
By Denzel.J BRONZE, Hartford, Connecticut
Denzel.J BRONZE, Hartford, Connecticut
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

My past just follows me. Incessantly,
It calls to me, breathing my name.
It haunts my every move.
Oppression is the name that I give to you.
You hold me down with chains you create.
You brought yourself this, not I.
I refuse to suffer this with you.
I shed that past, I don’t belong to you.
Your hunger and frenzy to convert me back,
Transform me,
Change me,
I refuse. I will not be you.
And yes, we are similar.
But I don’t see the world through prejudiced eyes.
I allow my earthy skin to be soaked in.
Strong tree bark is my skin, free knife marks which are the words you use.
My sapling shape has a mountainous persona,
I am bigger than life.
I live in it,
I love it.
You hate me because of my pride.
You ask me this,
“What can you show fo it, you aint nothin.”
I might not be anything… yet, but I have goals,
Stereotypes of you don’t dare touch me.
Last time I checked, strong oaks can’t be molded like malleable clay.
I am going to be big and oppression, you won’t be an obstacle for me.

The author's comments:
I felt that i should use a combination of myself and my ancestrial background combined with sterotypes in modern day america. Being labeled as 'black' or 'African American' holds many negative and posistive conotaions since people think of Blacks as thugs, hoodrats, and generally indigent. They see them as people who are not able to have a job and can only rap and dont know how to truly dress properly. I personally do not identifiy with that and never have. People label me as black and i do not see myself as that. It streetches beyond the boundary of skin tone and into me. The illusions to the earth is where i feel i come from; one with the nature. I am just a person, not black, not african; just american.

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