The Angry Black Girl

No, you cannot touch my hair,

No, you cannot stare,

I am not an animal in a zoo,

But I’m often mistaken as one by you

Mistaken as that loud, sassy, nappy haired black girl over there,

Be quiet, straighten your “unkept” hair,

Always been loud black and angry,

Black loud and disgruntle

Uneducated,

Broke,

The runt of the races,

But let me be upfront,

We aren’t angry,

We type in lowercase so you don’t CAPITALIZE on our skin,

We hide in shadows scrubbing ourselves red,

but not light enough to be accepted

too dark, too dangerous to be accepted

our unborn sons are something you think should be contracepted

Being intercepted,

Forced to say, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe,”

Until…. He exhales his last time.

We live in a society that is more afraid of being perceived as racist,

Than ACTUALLY being racist,

We hold these truths to be self-evident,

That all men are created equal,

Unless you’re loud, black and angry

Black, loud, and disgruntle