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Here are the three reasons on why I love being black, 
Yet do keep in mind that this is not a poem of hate 
But a poem of love and pride 
Because being pro black does not mean being anti anything else. 

Reason number one: the food 
My fondest memories of growing up seem to all deal with food 
From my grandmother cooking me grits with sugar 
To my mother making Thanksgiving dinner with leftovers for days, 

It’s the one thing that brings the family all together time and time again, 
On days where there is nothing better to do than fight with cousins and then eat. 
It reveals where our true loyalties lie, because yes I do love you,
But I think I may love Auntie's mac & cheese more.
And don’t forget that collard greens are always better the second day. 
Or to call a piece of pumpkin pie as soon as it’s out of the oven, or you won’t get any. 

I think there is magic in the food they make. 
Magic somewhere in the cabinet of spices that they know like the back of their hand, 
It’s our history, yet does not require a textbook because it is passed down 
From generation to generation. 

Reason number two: the music. Specifically R&B.
I was born with R&B in my blood 
Circulating through my veins on repeat 
R&B songs were my lullabies,
The songs I heard everyday 

Because there is nothing better than hearing Ordinary People,
On the days when life gets hard 
Or the Jackson 5 on the days when I can’t resist the urge to dance

For there is not a genre that I connect with
As much as I do with this. 
It seems to reflect our feelings in the world. 
Says the things we are too afraid to say at times. 

Because If you want to know how I feel
About my place in this world, 
Play, What’s Going On by Marvin Gaye and you’ll understand 
And to all the artists who came before me thank you for being our voice. 

Reason number three: our resistance.
In our history one of our greatest achievements
Must be rising again and again 
After being knocked down over and over.  
And yes Ms. Maya Angelou I will continue to rise.

Because of after years of hate and self-loathing, 
Years of trying to forget who we are and the roots we laid.
We have learned to wear our melanin proud, 
In spite of those who hate. 

For we are works of art,
Created by the Gods with stars in our eyes
And galaxies in our smiles.
The kings and queens of this world that lays at our feet.
We are the dreams of our ancestors, 
Imagine how proud they must be. 

We have kept our heads up forever
And we will continue to do so 
We are still here and 
We are staying.

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reach4marsThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. said...
Mar. 17 at 9:52 am
Great piece! It's very honest and true feeling (can't wait to see more work!) :)
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