A biracial poem
My life is black and white like the 1930s
People tell me what I’m NOT then look at me dirty
When I tell them what I am, they don’t like that either
I ask them to give me their opinion, they say neither
Boxed in, twisted, pulled in circles
You’re black enough for politics, until they hurt you
White enough to be the love interest in box office movies
The world’s opinion of me, well, that’s a doozie
Because the opinions are scattered, no consistency
Did my parents think of me before they joined in intimacy?
No, they didn’t, nor should they have to.
If love is love, why should they be hassled?
I’m black and white, biracial indeed
No more shame, I bleed what I bleed
From this moment on, I stand tall and proud!
Say it with me, I am Biracial, said it loud!
M. Este
