“I don’t see race.”
See all those who have come before me
Living in the melanin of my skin.
The honor, the integrity
The joy of the first ballot cast by a dark skinned hand.
See the tragedy, the horror
The trauma of deliberate and legislated separation
Dubbed less than treated as such
See the joy in the rhythm and rhyme.
See the rise of our entrepreneurial spirit
Bursting within our communities.
Watch as chains of a poverty mentally
Are broken forever.
Marvel as a legacy of cyclical external dependence
Transforms into internal accountability.
Seeing my race doesn’t make you racist.
It makes you human.