Kaleidoscope
As I stared at myself through the mirror,
I stopped and wondered.
Who was I?
Was I the dark nail polish that had chipped off my fingertips,
Or the expensive preppy blouse that flared off my rounded hips?
Was I my grandmother's set of vintage pearls,
Or the bright neon streaks that poked through my messy curls?
Was I the heavy rock music I loved to play,
Or the old church hymns I sang all day?
Was I the class clown, the friend who loved to talk,
Or the quiet lass who would rather go out for a walk?
Was I the genius that was also a little insane,
Or the airhead without any common sense in her brain?
Was I my father's fair skin,
Or did I look like my mother's mixed kin?
Was I the trauma I had survived, and the baggage that still existed,
Or the phoenix who had put up a fight and had persisted?
Within myself, I found my truth.
I was a product of my past and present,
Of different heritage and descent.
I was more than what others thought of me,
And simple words and labels could not describe me accurately.
I was not black or white, one thing or another.
I was a mosaic, a beautiful kaleidoscope of colors.

- Scarphoe