I AM

CATEGORY

Wear it like a glove, damn proud of it. Organically grown, put a lable on it. Touch it, feels like smooth Eygptian Silk, tiptoe go slow and approach with caution. Confused faces is trying to play if off, yes it's a  thin line between love and hate. Affirmative and exquisite, can I get an Amen! This skin that I'm in can swell up the streets with a million African Americans, adding stress to your mess just to preserve our identity. Appointed, as earth's indispensable weapon, its our job to fight the terror of mass destruction, the evidence is in our swag and in our body language. Divinity is apart of our DNA. So, no matter how far you dig to find yourself, we'll perpetually be the conclusion in your unsolved mysteries, the last artifact layed to rest, living among the minerals that gave you breath. Like paint on a wall you will never be free of me. Reason being, listen close, I AM, who I AM, the salt of the earth one of the fearest African Americans.