They say that I am white, yet I said to them I am black.
Most of those peers of mine pondered on if what I said was even a fact.
The way I speak, and the pronunciation of my words.
Many start to beam in awe, while others choose to turn.
Most of them believed I wasn’t black enough, due to the way that I spoke.
The insults said made my heart sink, leaving it unable to float.
I was nicknamed “Oreo” for easier identification.
Black on the outside, white on the inside, they saw this as my representation.
I know one thing though, one thing for sure,
Nobody knows me personally, not even the parts that make up my core.
No grudge is shown in me towards the slang they use. Instead, it is something that I respect.
It is unique, special, and has its own effect.
Even if I may sound like I’m white, I am still a black person as the sun rises and sets.
The same goes for my black peers, even if one of them says “You ain’t like our rest.”
Some classmates, however, never looked down on the way that I speak.
They saw me as a true hardworking leader, ascending to reach their peak.
No matter how the world sees me, I refuse to take comments that bring pain.
I’m just a person that wants to learn, read, and grow, nowhere close to an emblem of shame.
Whether it is true that I am an “Oreo” or not, it is not what is in control of my life.
I am a black intellectual that is acquiring more knowledge each day to night.
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