MISUNDERSTOOD
Misunderstood like you’re from a different world with different people trying to make you and break you.
Misunderstood like you’re weird, strange maybe even confuse.
Misunderstood of who I am and who I be let me explain myself, I am who I am and be whatever I want to be. If you still misunderstood of who I am, sit down and let me explain it to you for a little while. I might not be smart like Einstein nor an artist like Raphael. I’m a poetic if you know it, well if you didn’t know you do because I’m misunderstood.
Misunderstood like I knew people would, so my talk is different and my walk is different. I have eyes looking at me with more emotion than a woman giving birth.
Misunderstood with my lie and how it changes every day. When I write, I write what I feel and feel what I write, but I’m still misunderstood, and I never gave up the fight, the fight for freedom, rights and help life changes.
Misunderstood by my attitude, words, and emotions.
Misunderstood by the night while the sun always shines during the day.
Misunderstood by parents crying, heart-aches even headaches. I can’t even cross the street on my own without my hand being hold. I can’t sleep at night; I toss and turn, back pain, heart pain, and even school being a pain.
Misunderstood by the words that had been spoken with the rhythm and beats of the sound of my voice and just because I’m black doesn’t mean I listen to rap. Sure I move to the music cause I love the beats not because of the words they speak.
I have my own words and rhythm, but better yet I’ll just stay misunderstood by me the poetic, the little one who always could.