There lies my soul, my state of mind.

Misguided stereotypical values cloud my judgment.

Racial and cultural boundaries paint over my


This is my life, this is my reality

Why must I battle with my brain, to make sense of a world’s

CLOUDED JUDGEMENT. That my roots define my being.

That my name brings predictable judgement to MY ACTIONS?

Have I accepted the sins of others and chose to

pay with my SOUL?

Am I a victim of intellectual and CULTURAL ABUSE?

I LIVE IN A WORLD that knows my name, that has found my

unspoken words guilty without even been heard. I live where others

watch me and define my optimism as artificial. I live a life that has already

been predefined BY SINS I DID NOT COMMIT

I grow WEARY for even in my own land, I witness what critics talk

and write about in their journals and magazines.

I shake hand with the very people they CONDEMN,

I am governed and lead by those they scorn.

The only WEAPON I have is what lies in me, for I will not take my

frustrations to the state of embracing a LIFE OF SILENCE.

I will accept my fate, and LEAD A REVOLUTION even if the

only thing that bleeds is my words through the ink of a pen.

culled from Switched On Magazine

Molara Brown


  1. Fierce...i like.

    Its annoying how we can be judged by tribe or race, and not by individual content