A little white girl in a big white world
The color lines are never blurred
They said it was supposed to be easy being white
But being white doesn’t stop these tears at night
No one can fathom my love or my choice
“His skin is like midnight, his hair is so coarse”
Its 1961, and I carry a black mans seed
I’m barely a woman, I’m only eighteen
This is my first child but I’ll do what I can
It matters not about the color of his skin
3 months along and I’m getting married
Opposition from parents, it’s all kind of scary
A black husband, black child, wish the world understood
I would sway the minds of the masses if I could
But married life has turned out not so great
My new husband leaves us, my sanity is at stake
Now I’m left alone to raise a black son
I silently suffer, my child is just one
My struggle is abundant , not sure what to do
How could you leave a kid that’s not yet even two
I shake off adversity and put my all into him
Determined he won’t lack though his dad left on a whim
As a single mother, I nurture my son
Education, food, clothes, a mothers work is never done.
At times I feel weary and want to give up
But I have to remember this child that I love
Determined my son will not lack from his fathers absence
An underprivileged mulatto with limited chances
Life changes once more when my son is ten
I marry another man and conceive once again
Two children now, I think, “What have I done?”
Money is tight so I send my son to my mom
My second husband leaves, so more burdens to bear
Into my children I put all my care
I survive financially and get my son back
We move into a home, no more than just a shack
My daughter adjusts, she fits the mold
But my son is a negro, with struggles untold
He starts high school and feels he has no place
Not black, not white.. Or anyones race
He’s becoming withdrawn and I’m getting concerned
I know he will be somebody “Just wait your turn”
My child starts to try marijuana and cocaine
And he drinks to fit in and hide the pain
He’s only fifteen, living black in a white world
The color lines still have not blurred
I see his potential as only a mother can
In my heart I am sure he will be a great man
A little black baby born to a young white girl
But one day his skin won’t matter in this big white world
He is special, I see it, his life will influence many
His gift of inspiring is often uncanny
My little black son will one day shine
He will touch several souls the way he’s touched mine
His name will be great, the only thing given by his father
One day the world will see what I see in Barack Obama
"When I think about my mother, I think that there was a certain combination of being very grounded in who she was, what she believed in." -Barack Obama
