Some People, NOT Me

Do I still question how they see me; to be honest they barely do anymore except the occasional text to see that I’m still above ground, still they’re dirty little secret, even from myself nowadays. “Some People, NOT Me”, I’m my own worse critic.

Some people… more than one
Laugh and fear and hate… me
For fun?
My crime is making a “we”
When I’m they’re son
Not the whole world, see

Just some people… not just a few
Over twenty-seven years
Make it their mission for me to lose
The cause of all my tears
Should have been born blue
Maybe I wouldn’t get the sneers

Of some people… more than a dozen
Flesh and blood, a “family”
Mommy, Daddy, Sister, Cousin
Don’t make me happy
Brothers, sisters, all the others
Skin like theirs… no one like me

Because of some people… not most
Look at me, like a diseased rat
Make me doubt, so I don’t know
And tear me down with their attacks
Hate my birth and make me want to go
Not Muslims, Republicans, I’m talking at

But some people… and not the whole damn world
Those from royalty, to slavery, to today, and me
Ashamed and filled with hate for sure
And why shouldn’t I be
Say I’m worthless and I’m no good
The man in the mirror, that I see

Some people won’t understand
They and I are enemies
Dare I say, “I AM A MAN”?
Who is it that cannot see?
My character they cannot stand
And who am I supposed to be
“You people” won’t understand
Some People, NOT Me

Copyright © 2011, Will A. Bradford Jr. All rights reserved.


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