Look at me,
no, really look.
What do you see behind the burnt pages of my book?
The colour of my skin probably strikes you first
depending on the colour, it glares, soothes or freaks
Does that entice you to look deeper within?
Dare you see further through the cracks of my skin?
There’s more you know, more than just flesh and bones
there’s a soul shining bright
brighter than the darkest of tones
but you don’t see that because society dictates
dictates that you judge everyone by their ethnicity, race and state
there’s also the tick boxes we’re meant to fit in
A mould they’ve wealded for us to jump in
by looks alone, perhaps I match
every nook and cranny society ranks
but there’s embers within which has simmered and been smothered
my soul screamed loud for years to just be heard
I don’t want to fit into societys’ grave marked for me
I want to be unique and roam free
I don’t want shackles which restrains my voice
for years you’ve boxed me into shunning my worth
I’m not a number, a stat or a colour
I understand most things and in all manner
I refuse to pass as someone of your kind
Who decided white to be the supreme mind?
When you see me, do you really see?
I’m an enigma
a conumdrum
A galaxy being
I’m not you, nor are you me
so why box me into your failed category?
Ideologies come and ideologies go
people are too busy fighting unlikely foes
you think you are safe but you’re earmarked as ‘them’
in one swift turn you’re at the battle lines hem
unsuspecting as life led you to believe
you’re part of the system
the slots you fit in
don’t lie to yourself- or even to me
We’re part of the same cogs- but on differring springs
Where we all come from shouldn’t matter
Our lives, our souls are not meant to shatter.
Look at me,
no, really look.
What do you see behind the burnt pages of my book?
~ Copyright ©yikici 2017-infinity
