I wonder once again, why am I here?
Who am I for real? Am I a Leo, like my
Horoscope, or am I a little girl that lets
Everyone step on her? Am I a hoodrat? 
By statistics, I should be pregnant by 16,
Homeless, and have no knowledge of my real
Father; Is that me or what you see me to be?

Am I black on the outside, but pure white on 
The inside because of my intelligence? Do I have 
To prove I'm hundred percent black by fighting,
Spilling profanity from my mouth, and yell in someone's face For the entertainment of instigators? Do I?

Do I really have to 'fit in' with my generation and race
When I'm too intelligent, too retroactive in my thoughts
To blend in with the disgraceful youth. The world goes 
'round, while we stand still, our brains shrinking at the
speed of light. Nothing has any meaning anymore; 
There's no love, no encouragement, no one to give
A guiding hand to steer these children right; Right 
On to the path of Nowhere if the world keeps spinning.

Why does the world spin? No that's too simple, too basic. 
Too comprehensible for the educated; which are the few minds that still are left in the world. Let's ask another question: Why are we here? Why is this 'planet' here? The answer's not The Big 
Bang, it's not science, it's not physics, it's not that two molecules began to combine & an explosion, and blah, blah, blah; It's not....

It's something powerful, like God you could say; But that would
Put Non- Christians minds at stake. So, why are you here? Is it because of a one night stand or mad scientists with test tubes? Is it because of a stork and a fragment of imagination & hope? The answer is something we will never know; For they've erased our memories, of the good & bad; the next generation will never know of our existence... how sad.

But, hopefully, our descendants will never be as bad; the children of the now are more foolish, more childish than a toddler; All of this absurdness needs to stop, for I will explode
& holler if not. The resentment within flourishes, blossoming
like a rotten floret, filled with gloom & despair; For I feel another
question wavering in the air -- What's wrong with society today?

We have an orange for a president, whose shipping back illegal
residents; We have a generation of unruly kids, and they can't
even acknowledge what a 'whooping' is. Their insubordination
strikes a pain within me; Realizing that I'm labeled & inserted
in this group. And we all wonder when will they send back the
troops. President Cheeto can't comprehend all of the damage he's done in these few months. Acting in the shadows, scared
to face the world, to show that he's not a big girl...well, boy. But
nevermind that slight miscalculation, boy, oh boy, for there's one more question.

That question is... where's my acknowledgment? For it may
seem cheesy or very pathetic, hoping for your attention, my
time to shine. But I'm not hankering for your eye, I just would like some of your time. I'm irritated of waiting, watching from
the exterior as a simpleton is thanked by the teacher for their
hard- work, as if they did it themselves. Straight A's & the best
notes in class, you'd thought I'll get a pat on the back. Or a thank you. I guess I'm too humble & too thankful of my teachers, that
I come off as a teacher's pet. I don't want a cash prize, I need to
be thanked at least one time. I'm Leonardo DiCaprio before he
got his reward; Working day & night, back to back, trying to
achieve all at once. I guess I'm a dunce. Or it's just what history
says. I guess until my skin turns white, bright as the sunlight, I'll never get recognize. For I hate to say that, but when you question the Wonders of Life, they'll either answer correctly or
won't answer at all.