Thursday, August 11, 2016


"She tried to understand. 

But it seemed the color of her skin had made that impossible. 

She wanted to believe that it was over. 

That racism belonged to the past. 

It did not fit in her perfect happy world,

where all go hand in hand. 

The news she banished from her life years ago. 

All the negativity. 

Newspapers where only used to add or create with, 

not to read. 

Yet now that just a few miles from her passing by life, 

there had been this hurtful act of hate. 

She had no choice any longer but to admit, 

that in this everyday life, 

not a day goes by without war, 

without the battle of search for a bitter better. 

She finally realised now, 

she had to put in more effort to try and understand how it must feel like. 

So she put on high heels and shorts and got called out as a "whore", 

so she dressed in snapback caps and huge hoodies to find, 

store managers asking her "if they could check her backpack", 

she used accents and saw how people acted as if she was stupid. 

To understand not only how someone's shoes feel, 

but also whats under their skin... 

She decided to paint it black, 

surprise, surprise underneath black skin, 

is the same flesh as she used to live in. 

Layered, equally." 

It's all layered equally

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