America's Frankenstein

This poem is my first real piece. It is actually a poem that came to light as I was thinking about my life and how my personal experiences have shaped me. Originally, I wanted to write a story about my life and other young men who share similar experiences (which is still in the works and will be highlighted on this site). However, as I started putting feelings and thoughts on paper, this is what came out. Enjoy…


Molded by mis-education and myths
The legend grows and continues to drift
Through the psyche of those who have enslaved
But more importantly is instilled in the minds the legend portrays
It starts back in the forming from the Triangle Trade
Willie Lynched so that there would be less tirades
For if a person believes they are less than one
That person will not speak against the forced actions to come
Yes, we are created by a system called race
A system not created here, but perfected this place
Created not by different body parts
But indeed created by implanting thought
Thoughts of being inferior
Thoughts of lesser beauty
Thought that lighter faces were made marvel
That their way was the right way
And that is what we seek
Eventually fading memories that we are uniquely unique
Like the monster seeking to be accepted
Seeking the human essence that has been stripped
You ask why has been
My friend we are still trying to gain
A place in this system while lifting our races name
To them we are still but some toy
They give us some rights and a few we take
However we still follow the rules they make
Some of us rise to their level or so we think
To make us seem equal and on the brink
Of breaking through to be accepted
But it is often still you’re good to be a Black person
Dream not yet manifested
Others fall in the imploding nova, that all we do is ball
Like we are only good at running, balling, and pimping
Like that is the only way we can crawl
And begin to walk upright like a man
The man that they have created in our image to be
An image that seems unattainable to me
Yes we have been created
And we travel down the path
That is made for us
While our creators laugh
Seemingly still profiting
As they write books
About Nigrasence and identity
While making us think we are the crooks
Yet like a modern day Frankenstein
We search for a way
To get this human nature granted to us
And not feel like human noids
But like the monster which was created and then sought to be destroyed
We have followed a path that has made us more like androids
Like Frankenstein’s monster
We cannot look to another
To bestow us human form and accept us like brothers
For in his search, the character in deed
Went on a rampage and committed misdeeds
Rampage and criminally minded we cannot become
Looking at what they say as important and seeking what has yet to come
Unlike the created being
Let’s not look for them to give us our start
Be not like a created monster
Know our human-ness will start from our own heart
Until then we are a “Modern Day Prometheus”