The Misunderstanding of Color by Kyla Henry

My black is not a weapon
However, I can see why it may seem so;
The gold of my skin as it shines in the sun,
The malleability of my crown
The way I glide with the presence of my ancestors beside me,
The way my voice, silk booms like thunder;
Captivating everyone’s attention,
I understand how it can be seen as a threat to those who cannot

Society has nitpicked everything about us from the womb;
We set trends yet are hated for doing so,
We are called manly for succeeding in sports,
We are question for succeeding in business,
We are criticized for our way of tongue; only for it to be called “twitter slang”,
We are even belittled by our own

Throughout it all-
the trials, tribulations, and triumphs-
We thrive.
So, I get why my black could be seen as a weapon
It’s intimidating to those who cannot see the magic hidden underneath