Call Me Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Call me.
Whatever that it is you want.
Call me.
Whatever that it is.

Call me.
Whatever that it is you want.
Call me.
Whatever that it is.

Stuck up.
Arrogant.
Ghetto boy to think annoyed.
Call me.
Whatever that it is you want.
Call me.
Whatever that it is.

Uncle Tom.
Negro.
A wannabe to be believed.
Call me.
Whatever that it is you want.
Call me.
Whatever that it is.
You can just call me.
Whatever that it is you want.
Call me.
Whatever that it is.

Know this I could care less.
Since I have kept my self respect.
And notice my strut when I walk,
It's not to fake or make impressions.
No.
I'm not a novelty.
Or trying to deny,
What you see God gave me to be.

So,
Call me.
Whatever that it is you want.
Call me.
Whatever that it is.

I know this me I AM.
To have earned with,
A yearning it.
I know this me I Am.
In my mind condoning to have known it.

So...
Call me.
Whatever you want.
But...
I'll never want or wish you to be.