ALL ME, Art, Me, Poetry

Poetry Slam: It still exist.

People laugh at my expenses.
Not because of my paper but what the color of my skin is.
I’m smiling outdoor outside, I’m crying indoor but I’m dying in the inside.
All because of the color of my skin, the motherland flag.
I’m proud to be what I am, who I am but does that mean I have to endure the animosity.
I chuckle at the jokes but I take accountability on the serious quotes.

Motherland Fought for freedom, fought for justice. But nobody gives a shit until one of theirs was shot almost left for dead in a sign of protest but now they were called terrorists.

Mira Mira, bacalao, Goya beans, gwalla gwalla, Spic, this is all the shit We all get from both ends of the stick. Spic, spic… All because I am hispanic.

easy target all because we are proud of the things we do, say, feel, no insecurities here. But we can never win. From Agüeybaná to Campos. They showed how to be peaceful and fight when the time was right. Instead of understanding, they judge. Instead of asking, they assume. Instead of peace, they want war. Instead of loving, they hate. I’m never ashamed of who I am it’s just sad that racism still exists.

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