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Kendra Sanders


You look at me and ask yourself
Who am I?
What am I?
What have I to do?
I`m an African American, Black, nothing more
Why do I have to pay for my ancestors breaking that barrier,
For them proving your race,
That they didn't need your 'expertise',
they didn't need your education
Nor did they need your approval
To be what we all are today.
You look at me
You think,
My America is full of these 'niggers'
Who made your America

Full of trash
Full of ignorance
Full of cirme
We will never be white

[...] Read more

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