A cherry tomato among grapes
Taught to hate my hips and waist
unless you want to taste me
and temporarily it is fine
until you’re satisfied
An orchid among roses
Taught to hate my hair and nose
unless you want to use me
to hawk a product or two
and keep all the money for you
A cry of despair among raucous laughter
Taught to hate my skin like I don’t matter
unless you collect exotics
so proud of your one black friend
until translucent waifs are in vogue again
A soul among the soulless
changes the dynamic
your ignorance is more than taught
its produced, styled, ingrained, and managed
Do you get that?

Maybe you’re right and I just don’t belong.
Or maybe, you’re wrong.
Since the absence of the color is what is reflected by the sun.


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