A black man asks me for money
So he can buy a fish sandwich from Captain D's
With a practiced tone I respond
"I'm sorry dude, but I have no cash on me."
In spite of his hunger
Or because of it
He lashes out
To provide a criticism
Often heard
And never forgotten
"You sound just like one of those white boys."
He walks off
As my beautiful, ugly body
Wilts in the dusky, summer heat
Torn between this world of black and white
With a voice white as snow
And skin as black as ash
I walk back to the bars
Down the grey, forgotten corridor
Between identity and isolation
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