My real home is far away,
I came to this school without anyone,
They stare, point, and grin.

They judge the way I dress,
The color of my shoes,
And the dreadlocks in my hair.

They judge the color of my skin,
They mistake me for an African-American,
There should be no problem with the color of one’s skin.

They judge the accent in my voice,
And the verbal skills I use,
It all means the same in the end.

When someone talks to me,
They talk down to me,
Please tell me why that is.

They are no better than me,
I can do everything just like them,
But they still think they are better than me.

Instead of staring, pointing, and grinning.
Instead of judging the way I dress,
And the color of my skin.

After 180 days they still judge me,
I’m not a bad person,
If only they just got to know me.