imagesIt’s like flipping a switch;
Moments ago I was a smiling girl,
Gaily laughing with one of her friends
And in the blink of the eye,
I became one of them;
No longer was I smiling, my eyes were intense,
My hips swayed and I walked with sexual power,
No longer the girl and not quite yet a woman,
I changed in just a moment,
Lost in the times and expectations,
I talk slang just as much as I speak eloquently, perfect manners seem dull next to thug passion.
My music becomes louder, movies become darker,
My heart is cold and my teeth are artificially white and professionally straight,
A blend of both worlds, rejected by both;
Too dark to be white, too white too be black,
I am both coveted and hated,
My skin, caramel and smooth, unblemished by chains but still absent of voice,
Thick, curly hair, trimmed and permed,
Mocked and envied,
I am a chameleon of the post-civil war era,
Blending and adapting, when opportunities arise, I hide what’s truly mine,
My culture, my history, my scars,
For the white-washed world of horrors-
Taken away as I check one race instead of the other,
Where do people like me go when the world splits in two,
And the caramel babies have to choose sides?

6 thoughts on “Chameleon

  1. Your topic is very real, I enjoyed how you explored it to the last. Though I cannot speak from experience, from your poem I felt the chameleon feel, and the in between feel with it.

    Liked by 1 person

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