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The color of my skin
by
Chantel Rasmussen
I can't meet his friends,
he's afraid of what they'll think,
he's afraid they'll despise him,
because the color of my skin,
I can't meet his family,
'they won't like you' he said
they'll hate you,
cause your skin isn't red
He told me he was racist,
but not to me,
he said that he couldn't,
Cause I was his baby,
I can't stand how his aunty treats me,
the way she glares down the hall,
it's almost like she's waiting,
for me to trip and fall,
I know she hates me,
she even said so,
she looked at him and said,
'why are you with a white girl?'
She makes me feel guilty,
for something I never did,
and all of this is because,
the color of my skin,
I am so ashamed of the past,
when it's not even me,
I can't help what happened then,
why the hell is that so hard to see?
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