A biracial poem

My life is black and white like the 1930s

People tell me what I’m NOT then look at me dirty

When I tell them what I am, they don’t like that either

I ask them to give me their opinion, they say neither

Boxed in, twisted, pulled in circles

You’re black enough for politics, until they hurt you

White enough to be the love interest in box office movies

The world’s opinion of me, well, that’s a doozie

Because the opinions are scattered, no consistency

Did my parents think of me before they joined in intimacy?

No, they didn’t, nor should they have to.

If love is love, why should they be hassled?

I’m black and white, biracial indeed

No more shame, I bleed what I bleed

From this moment on, I stand tall and proud!

Say it with me, I am Biracial, said it loud!

M. Este