Three Poems plus a bonus.

way back it was Black. (Rough draft)

The kinda
love I know,

Never recieving
what you asked,
for, no
matter how
important it
Is.

If you do it's
the watered
down cheaper
version of it.

Help is
conditional,
and of
convenience
Provided I
can pay it
back,
being
black

if material can
be taken back
black it
will, dark
or blue
You'll be a
victim of
repetitive
reminders
that they
are your
saviours
Regardless
Of magnitude,
same
applies
when
it's a
random
act on
their
part,

I chose
to
suffer in
silence
and solitude.

The disdain of
doing wrong,
you instantly
published to
whom cares
to listen
Disdain will
retain a long
linger on the
horizon of
future discrepancies intertwining and becoming one rope long
Enough to
chastise
myself
With,
typical fashion
of the nice
lady that
Kindly
cradled me
in her, womb
for ten months,
and a half,
being black.

Do right and
it is treated,
like it's expected,
Perspective, like
we won't celebrate
you for
blinking
that
kind of expected.
Black.

The man who's
Scrotum that
Once housed
Me as a sperm,
Well his word
is last,
and iron
weather,
It rains or humid.

Livid he
spits, lava
into my
already
fragile,
esteem,
words like
you stupid,
come by
default, a
fault that's
not his at
all,
concerns,
him not,
food for
thought,
my younger
brother
holds,
rank over
me, same
person
forced
me to
swallow,
pills for
ADHD,
like it's
an instant
fix, six
out of six
times,
he only
believes
it to be
an excuse,
by now
I'm a
mytre
for mental
health,
Under
Ceasers
hand every
time, I'd resurrect
he'd publicly
crucify me,
brutally or
lynch me
depending,
where his
Christopher
Columbus's
mind state
is,

His grudges
and hate, I
must bear,
the Grizzly
weight, he
must
dictate,

which family
I speak to
or not.

Now tell me
I'm lucky to
have both
parents alive

Being raised
by black parents
Is a trauma on
it's own a subjugation
to various justified
normalised forms
of abuse.
Misguided
procedures,
to dealing
with the
Obscure,

Anomalies,
warrant the
belt, stick,
whip, shoe,
Violence
begotten
Violence.

Or calling
it names,
hiding under
the guise
of religion,
"You are demonic."

Or rather
you "bewitched"

Or the simple,
why you
like this?

I'd always
answer
"I don't know"

When the answer
is in fact you.

Let's not
forget the,
"abantu
bazo thini" (what will people say?)
syndrome.

I'm not a black
sheep at all,

I'm just odd,
Old soul and
creative...

Wait not a
Black
graduate,
Black doctor,
Black nurse or
Black lawyer.

Instead, an
Outlier
Odd, old soul
creative?

-Black Note.