I've lost all control of my thoughts
People think im crazy
My family doesnt accept me
And I hate me
In what way can I be liked?
None, for I am the one that speaks what I think
A projectile person of past events
The one that gets stared at, and pointed at as they laugh
They will not accept me
For I am the one they call 'different'
The confidant black woman
Who is also a child
Being different is a good opportunity to shine :) for, there was once a black man as president in the USA! There is always hope, and even if your not accepted by others, you have to accept yourself... Titi
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I can relate Celeste, except for the black woman part. Good poem.