Untitled

By : Me

I hate being the only black person in class.
Whenever the teacher mentions anything about black people;
It seems as though everyone turns around and looks.
It makes me feel uneasy.

I’ve gone to their parties – if you can even call them that
They sit around and drink
Hook up with random people
Some even do drugs.
I tried it for a while.
But I’ve come to realize
That it’s not my scene.

I’ve tried to associate with some of the black people here
But they’re fake.
They hang in cliques.
It reminds me of high school.
Some of them try to keep up with their pale peers
So I’m sure their parties are just the same.

Other races are kind of cool.
We chat in class
But they don’t understand me
The way I’d like them to.
So I never get too close.

I’m out of my element.
So rather than keep up,
I stay to myself.

I go out when I want
I drink when I want
I talk, socialize, and be typical
When I choose
Not when they do.

I occupy my time by focusing.
School comes first,
Then money.

And when I find time in between,
I focus on myself.

Understanding who I am,
Who I want to be
And forever staying true to me.