Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Latina americana

Latina Americana, thats what they say.
Never seen as one of those teenagers out there doing the same.
I’ve been labeled, i've been judged.
To the people around the world, i'm just one of their little rugs.
They step on my dreams, they tell me i can't, not aware of everything i am capable at hand.
My parents came here to help us survive, why can they see what helps us strive?
You wont make it, you're not good enough, They test me, they push me.
But they don't see, everything i am setting out to be.
They don't see all this hunger i carry , Its the hunger to make me better than what they believe.
I wont be put down just for their sake, i've been through situations they wouldn't be able to take.
At the age of 16 i had to mature, seeing as though i lost something so pure.
My sister died in an accident so cruel, no one wants to believe it, even to this day.
My family spread apart, i was alone, I haven't felt complete since the day i was left here to mourn.
Suddenly those words became true.
The little rug feeling was coming out, out shining everything ive ever thought about.
I wont, i cant, everything was there.
Beginning to pull me, beginning to tear me.
Never in my dreams had i imagined my life to be this way.
What can you do when this is the price we all have to pay.
The pain you feel has you weak, all you can do is fall down on your knees.
You can say a word or two hoping some day it will come true.
At the age of 16 i've been labeled ive been judged, i've lost and ive loved.
You learn to grow, you learn to live, most importantly you grow patient with it.
I’ve grown angry, i've grown tired, i'm the same as before, but one thing's for sure, i'm more ambitious than ever before.
I will get to where i need to, not just for me, but for those few people who actually believed in my dreams.
I’m a minority, living between a majority, growing with them, never becoming like them.
My heritage taught me to push through the hate, show them whos wrong and i'm apart of something great.
We Will all rise, to be who we are, for we are driven by something so powerful, by far.

Culture

culture 
neglects the color
objects the race
simplifies its actions
accuses the face
refuses the consequences
claims self protection
kills another
blames the name
forgets the family
gets all the fame
hero for killing
disgrace to the game
what you did is done
blamed his age
shouting at you
no weapon in sight
yet you thought it was a fight
pulled the gun
shot him down
an innocent teenage boy gone
towns gone wild
looking for justice
no one will man up
they just judge us
peaceful protest
gone to hell
our protectors
set us up into sectors
brown goes here
black goes here
white is there
don’t you dare stare
a child is gone
no justification
just words in the air
all self proclamation
country fights for the peace
yet the protectors fight for their belief
belief that killing is right
the teenager had no right
town is in riot
all for a man
who didn’t realize 
the color on his face
the weapon he thought
nothing was there
that boy could of been his own
but he just thought
it won’t hurt to see him gone
hes not part of my own
living a life different from mine
i won’t do this alone