This is ME

Black, gold, and green. My beautiful nationality. I came from chains. Tightly bound at my hands and feet. I came from bloody backs, and raised wounds. I came from fighters and warriors. I was born into oppression, hatred, and racism. As soon as I came out of the womb, my role in society was pre-determined. I would be known as nigger to those who don't who I am. I would be known as less than to those who don't know who I am. I would be known as a threat to those who don't know who I am. I would be known as a harlot to those who don't know who I am. I would be known as a thief for those who don't know who I am. All of these pre- conceived notions on who I am, makes me wonder,  what I am supposed to be? Who are you, to tell me who I am. Before I breathed my first breath, I had a history attached to me. As I grow, the past stays with me, but it doesn't define who I am. It's a reminder of why it's necessary for me to be the best in my field. To accomplish things my ancestors would not have been able to conceive. They were tortured, beaten, raped, for us to stop the cycle of letting our oppressers, oppress. I am a new generation. I will achieve more, I will do more, I am more. The ones who came before me granted me that opportunity. I will not, can not disappoint. I am an innovator, you will not forget my name. My mind is full of potential, that needs to be released.  My ideas are new, they are an original. I am an original. When God made me, the winds sang my name in a harmonic melody, and the earth smiled with beautiful bliss. I am his creation, I am from Him. I am a soul, in a spiritual plane we call life. I am a roamer, roaming this plane for a partner to ride with. I wander aimlessly, lonely, scared, and empty. I romanticize the day where I'll be in a fellowship with him and Him.  I am the living, I am the dead. I feel life but I near death. With each breath I take, I am closer to my last. Death is no fear of mine, for we know that one day it's going to happen to everybody. The fear I have is life. What was I meant to be. Who was I meant to be? Am I not black enough or am I too black? Will I maintain wealth or will my finances turn on me. Life is a mystery. Death is set in stone. I am the thinker, the thinking, the thought. I think of what is and what could be. I am the thinking because my mind is  engaged in random chatter. I am the thought because I one day aspire to be in you and others mind. I yearn to become unforgettable in the most literal sense of the word. For I am not Bevin and Sandra Salmon's daughter, I am Zara Salmon, a woman who will be soon hard to forget.