It’s hard for me
To pretend
I have no poker face
To see me
Is to know my thoughts
My feelings
Reeling
From the masks that we all wear
I have no patience for facade
Blame the only child life
It’s not right
TO waste time pretend
Or to conform
The norm is passé
I’m blasé to what path I’m not follow
The only thing that I have to prove
To the world
Is that I’m special
Whether crazy special or unique special
Is irrelevant
I have suffered many blows
In multicultural society
For my nonconformity
Maturing to the point
Where I appear
Expecting a fight
It’s all right
That my name is different
That I bring paperbacks to Ugandan functions
That I consider myself a womanist
A Pan African
A thinker
A creator
A poetess
That I create my own limits
I am who I am
And that’s all I have time to be
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