Content Preview: rss
721 days ago
I recall momma tellin' me that at birth I was almost rejected cause of the paleness of my skin little did she know i was God's canvas soon to become a master piece worth more than the Mona Lisa or a pack of dogs sittin' at a table playin poker I was born with flesh of a white male hair like what wannabes call Indian hair when i learned my great grandmother was a Squaw, i found joy in being a part of that then I learned the struggles of color I had no true understanding of what being a black child meant I had only been a sketching an outline of an image waitin to be filled in for what God and life wanted me to be
