So I was just laying here wondering what the hell I was gonna write about to get in another post and this came to mind. So I said f*ck it and hit publish.
Coke bottles thicker than what I was drinkin’ out of.
Learned to make jokes just to cope.
I wished I had a different name.
Jamal, Lamont, Jalah, Jaquan…
They had me feeling white even on my darkest days.
Good English couldn’t kick it with a pair of Jordans.
Passing exams didn’t pass the cool test.
In what kind of world was I living,
Where doing your worst made you look best?
You were at the peak if you failed.
And glancing back as far as I can tell,
Many fathers were absent but present in cells.
Even with my frames, I couldn’t see the truth.
With both parents, I was living a good life.
They were living in hell.
So many mothers drowning in bills and shit 60 proof.
Slim “My signature will be home this evening” Jackson
i love this. and it’s very similar to my fifth and sixth grade years.
i got teased for pronouncing school in two syllables as “skoo-ul” instead of one syllable. and i “accidentally” broke/lost/buried my glasses from kindergarten until like 7th grade. lol
“They had me feeling white even on my darkest days.”
Yes indeed – this was 3rd grade for me too but @ home because I was in a magnet program where there were 3 black kids and we were in school so the kids in my hood made fun of me “acting/talking white”
I’m not a poetry person.
But I dug this with two spoons.
*snaps to try and fit in and look cool*
#Irony
lol at digging with 2 spoons. i'll take that as a major compliment.