Man, I don't know...

But I could be a bottle,
lost and found,
First thrown into a sea to wander
Then thrown into a sea to be found
But hey, here I am,
floating in a sea, swaying in between waves,
Then floating here, into your hands,
With a message to say
Be just, be Kind

Live life with dignity,
And love,

Oh love,
live life.

I will be the gladdest thing
  Under the sun!
I will touch a hundred flowers
  And not pick one.

I will look at cliffs and clouds
  With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
  And the grass rise.

And when lights begin to show
  Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
  And then start down!

I saw a shooting star once;

No one believed me.
But the next day,
Around four that afternoon,
My wish came true.

It came in a small voice
From a small body
Softly spoken but loud
Excited words
Flying from every direction.

It can with tears,
From my eyes
And smiles so wide.

It all came in a three minute conversion,
From a phone thousands of miles away.
One of the best I'll ever have.

And even though they say
It was a coincidence
A wonderful one
To me, it was a wish come true.

I never think much about the fact that I am black.
I know I am black.
Like I know I am a girl,
Like I know I am an American,
Like I know I am nineteen.
It is a fact; I am black.

I hate when people say I am not.
My parents are black.
Their parents are black.
We are black.
Look at my skin,
It's dark and it's beautiful.
How could I not be black?
I am black.

I hate when people say I don't 'act' black.
How does one act to be considered black?
How am I acting? How is it not black?
Look at my skin,
It's dark and it's beautiful.
How could I not act black?
I am black.

I hate when people say I speak like a white person.
A way of speaking is not exclusive to race.
I am not white.
I do not speak like a white person.
My words are coming out of my black mouth.
I speak properly,
The way my black parents raised me to.
Look at my skin,
Its dark and it's beautiful.
How could I not speak black?
I am black.

I HATE when people say I am a white person trapped in a black body.
I have NEVER heard anything more insulting.
I am NOT trapped.
This color is NOT a cell.
I wear it proudly.
Look at MY skin,
It is DARK and it is BEAUTIFUL!
How could I ever be trapped?
I am black.

I am in no way white,
Nor do I ever want to be.
I am black
And black is beautiful

One day you will meet someone, whose eyes remind you of the river; deep, blue, and magical. He'll put his hand in yours and you won't know what to say. And the first time you kiss? That's all you'll think about it for the next week.

And one day he'll break your heart.
And you'll cry,
and cry,
and cry. You'll cry into your best friends arms and apologize for leaving her alone. You'll stay up late writing poetry and eating ice cream. You'll see him in the hallways and sigh.

But one day, you will be okay. I promise.

In the world we live in it's more acceptable to believe in the Devil than it is to believe in God.

And if one day you're unsure
of who you are,
Just listen to the way my heart beats for you

My skin and bones are healed
But can I say the same for my mind?