It’s hard being black and seventeen
I know it’s hard because it’s me.

I mean being surrounded by love, lust,
Hate, anger, sadness, depression and sex
You would end up losing your sense of innocence.

If not then your eyes to the world change,
Mindset and direction seem blurry and
Nobody wants to take you out of that foggy head state.

It’s hard being me
My insecurities keep piling up as I grow older
My skin is turning into the format of a badger
The older I get the more I realise I am for myself in this world.

It’s hard being black and seventeen
But worse being a woman.
That’s what I am, right?
Pretty, and light-skinned teen with a natural look,
Words I would love some to describe me.
Pompous and shady are also included but the ones I like
Are rude, heartless, ugly, boring, crazy
But the best one is inadequate.

But maybe I am all that people think I am, aren’t I?