I never felt 
That my life mattered more
Or that I was better than you.
When I met you,
I didn’t feel pride or anger,
Disdain or contempt.
I was mostly…just curious.
And I still want to understand
How you see the world,
What ways we are different
And yet the same.
But lately, voices are calling 
For me to change
My identity
And proclaim
Myself racist, classist, and oppressive.
Just as they speak to you
Warning that I’m the enemy.
And I wonder,
Can you look past the color of my skin
Or is this pale pink tone,
This tan hue,
The color of danger for you?
If we are all
Luminous souls in jars of clay
What difference does our outward surface make?
Prick us both
And we shall bleed.
Tickle us both
And we will laugh together
But if I’m condemned for my lack of melanin,
What is left but an ever widening gulf
Where you get all the media’s attention
And I get all the blame?
Even as I stand here,
Ready to love you
Ready to know you
If only you would let me 
Get close.
Thanks to Yoda and Shakespeare for the wording of some of this poem. 🙂
Copyright 2015 Andrea Lundgren
Photo by dhester, Creative Commons

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