Black Skin by K. Kenneth Edusei

Is there room for black skin?
It isn’t so chic,
God saw the light was good,
So he left the evil with me,
They say I’m a suspect,
I was killed for wearing a hoodie,
A 1,000 times I’ve been stopped and frisked,
I am incarcerated more than I should be,
I am paid less than other workers,
Can I give a shout-out to Lily Ledbetter?
I wonder if she’d been paid even less,
If her skin was a different color?
The academics say I am stupid,
They call it the achievement gap,
However when I ask about education funding,
I’m told “We are still working on that.”
Then they wonder why I’m disruptive,
Why I don’t do my work and pass,
They know I have no money,
Yet I’m bombarded with a million ads,
Class is not even over,
But cops are waiting at the door,
I asked about the school to prison pipeline,
And a judicial system’s negligence for the minority and poor,
I was told there is a propensity for violence,
Ignorance is so far reaching,
Sometimes I want to ask society,
Just. What. Are. You. Thinking?!
My skin contains the History of American Violence,
I’ve been lynched so many times I can’t remember,
I console my sisters who’ve been raped,
I hasten to bury another brother,
I had the seal of an owner,
Branded deep into my flesh,
Now I am a whole person,
Whose value is decidedly less,
How easily forgotten is their violence,
I am still called a n—-r,
But I use the word too,
So I guess that makes it all better,
My propensity is for self-determination,
I strive against an oppressive system,
They don’t acknowledge it is broken,
Instead I’m the one that needs the fixing,
So I am trying to be whiter,
Hopefully society will let me in,
If I work really hard for acceptance,
Maybe they will not see my black skin.