a talent that is not my own.

i have an extremely talented friend named kelsi.
i haven't talked to her in a billion years but since i've known her she's always been really into poetry.
recently i read this poem and i was like my daaaaang!
so i for sure need to share it with y'all.
it's called:
You Bring Out the Black in Me by Kelsi Sarno

You bring out the black in me.
The soft mocha skin.
The mahogany eyes.
The strong back.
The mystery.
The faith.
The history.
You are the one I’d take a
lashing for.
The one I’d lead through my
underground railroad.
And the one

I’d wade in the water with.

You see the Kool-Aid in me.
The grits and greens in me.
The breaking a comb, nappy hair in me.
The Popeyes in me.
The hourglass curves in me.
The black eyed peas and sweet potatoes in me.
The junk.. in the trunk in me.
The emancipation in me.
The civil war in me.
The drive to overcome in me.
The belief in me.
The are you a basketball player in me?
The hip-hop in me.
The blues in me.
The trumpets, saxophones and pianos in me.
The Ray Charles in me.
The soul in me.

You paint the passion in me.
Only you, only you.

You respect the Raisin In The Sun in me.
The black panther in me.
The “I Have A Dream” in me.
The Rosa Parks, trying to get home from work in me.
The Truth, like Sojourner in me.
The revolution in me.
The rivers Mr. Hughes followed in me.
The Guess Who’s Coming To Dinner in me.
The Glory,
And the To Sir, With Love in me.
You bring out the cracker-nigger in me.
Because you know I don’t care..
The title makes me stronger.
The “politically correct,” African-American in me.
The white-washed, stereotypical, agitator in me.

You love the dreamer in me.
The motivation to succeed in me.
The hope in me.

You believe in the vitality in me.
The work ethic in me.
The hustle in me.
The Color Purple in me.
The urban, rugged, street in me.
The ghetto in me.
The rhythm and flow in me.
The culture in me.
The game of Kobe Bryant in me.
The dancing of Michael Jackson in me.
The fist in the air, black power in me.

But once,
You forced the pride out of me.

The struggle in me.
The ebonics speaking,
Laboring, slave in me.
The voyage of the Amistad in me.
The inferno summers.
The sweet sweat in me.
The bare back.
The scars.
The battered cow-hide flesh in me.
The misery.
The pity in me.
The disgust.
The inferiority in me.
The riots.
The slave-trade of talent in me.
The fear, that soon turned to courage in me.

Finally, you met the real me.
The fight in me,
The Muhammad Ali in me.
The humor in me.
The cool, calm, and collected,
Denzel Washington in me.
The writer and the poet in me.
The Nikki Giovanni in me.
The intelligence.
The communicator.
The Oprah in me.
The desire in me.
The sexy, Beyonce in me.
The strength in me.
The actress in me.
The Rosario Dawson in me.
The speed of Jesse Owens in me.
The fire of Malcolm X in me.
The Harlem Renaissance romantic in me.
The innovation of Sidney Poitier in me.
The compassion of Martin Luther King Jr. in me.

You are what makes me,
Me.

I’ll follow you to safety,
If you end my hardship.
I’ll follow you to the future.
If you remember my past.
If you let me,
I’ll follow you to freedom.

Freedom at last,
Freedom at last.

--good right? she's freaking amazing.