Who I am
Is different from what you see
I am a man of flesh and blood
Yet you see me as color
And an art to be sold
Who I am. By Blossom
Is not dependent on where I'm from
Yet you pull out a gun
Immediately you see a different passport
I am a man of flesh and blood
Judged by the ace of hated criticism
I am a man of water and spirit
Yet my soul
Is forced to go back to its maker
Who I am
Is different from who you see
for I carry no weapons
but yet I am always armed
who I am is not a monster
but in every story. By Blossom
I am the villain
Who I am
Is not your call
But yet for every act
You are judged to be right
Who I am
Is a simple black man
Working night and day
In a system
Created for our killing
Designed for our reproof
And built for our demise
Who I am
Is a simple black man
Who has walked upon the earth
filled with blood
from my brothers slain
Who I am
Is a simple black woman
Whose body has been objectified
And natural has been demoralized
Who I am. By Blossom
Is a black teenager
Whose friends call the colored stick
Who I am
Is a baby
of proud African descent
Who's opportunity has been shut
long before my cry was heard
who I am
Is a simple black man
Whose petty crime
was rewarded with death
Who I am
Is a black thug
Asking for that cop's feet
To get off my neck
Who I am. By Blossom
Is a black girl
Who is afraid of the world
She lives in
Who I am
Is a black boy
Aware that it's a thug life
A gun or nothing society
Where his life
is worth nothing
but a few petals

@Instagram./Tinkerbell_with_no_job

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