Inside Our Skin

The very struggle of life, existing between the elections of bane. Does misery select each individual’s fate? To suffer as an American who is colored is a leap of faith…when will the monotony of hate be abdicated to love? For those that hate me for who I am, how would you feel in a world that you could not truly trust? Is it my skin, is it my choice, is it people such as myself that go unheard? The nerve. And yet, the worst has to come, as I await  God’s return to redeem my soul. I’ve been dispirited by the misfortune interpretations that suppose I am nothing. Struggling. Whether I am rich or poor, what will this mean once I die? Remove the sty from one’s eye and maybe, one day, we will realize that it wasn’t one person with all the world’s money. So why is it that, because of what I do have, you want to take from me? It takes money to make money as they say. So I do my best to be brave within a system of exchange. But the pain of being discriminated against, in essence, is quite strange—how to be an exemplification of humane? I am drained. Emotionally, physically, and mentally—spiritually I desire change! To be liberated from the chains of aggravation, frustration, and repeated slight. A ridiculous plight as I put up a fight; all for the sake of progression, forwarding, rising against oppression. No weapon that forms shall prosper, but Martin Luther King died in vain if we do not bother to carry out his dream by placing aside the belittling schemes to deter men and women alike; the fight in America will one day die, or hopefully will it compromise? Those that suffer the most, I pray you to be courageous and live, even if it means enduring inside our skin…