A Poem: “...Dr. King wishes he was me!”

When I look at my face
I see beauty...
I see king.
I see what should be...
Art on a wall,
Or displaying what’s truth
throughout your magazine.

When I look at my face
I see talent
I see scars & flaws; Nothing absent,
But I see the balance.

When I look at my face
I see persistence.
Resistance In my being.

Why else could I just be walking down the street, minding my own business
& a cop is scared of what he’s seeing
Nothing but a phone in my hand
Still, to Make him feel better about himself
He needs to shoot what he’s seen...
But confidence so high
My aura has already left the scene.

I’m not tryna be around you neither
Which Leaves your insecurities to bleed.

Yea, when I look at my face
I see power
I see the dream

Dr. King wishes he was me

Preaching right now
Trying to get you to see what I see.

That’s why you kill me
& kill me
It’s that deep
Why do You dislike me,
but you won’t make me dislike me.

Cause I like me.
The world hates that they like me.

you knew that, you’s smart...

The greatest thing the oppressor did was try to make us hate ourselves.
& hate ourselves
Then hate each other.

Yes the same oppressor that took this land away.
& ask why we can’t just get along with one another.

The same oppressor that gave us the good book to go by
But somehow still can’t treat us like a brother.
The system is broken, No wonder.

Hard to look out in the world & see peace.
& not feel like a reflection
Of what’s ugly

But when I look at my face
I see the truth.
I see the dream.
I see the future
I see the king.
I see me.