So Don’t Call Me Black

So I Write

I may sometimes have a friend or two
That say “I don’t know what to call you”
To me it matters and in fact
I tell them please don’t call me black

Dogs, cats, rats and bats
Backpacks, cups and even baseball caps
Are black, but me I am not a color
I’m not an object, an animal, or creepy crawler

When I was deployed, the insurgents didn’t say
I’m gonna blow up a black American today
Whoever wore that flag on their right
Was running from mortar rounds in the middle of the night

I don’t blame those who ask of me
What I want to be labeled or rather be
They don’t want to be wrong or want to offend
So I try to put the confusion to an end

I was born in Queens and raised in Brooklyn
I love and enjoy my mom’s southern cooking

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