Got Over

Let me tell you who I am

I’m not dead, yet

So, the sum total has not yet been added up

So let me tell you who I think I am

I’m one of the ones of color who got over

I’m one of the ones your bullet missed

I didn’t graduate high school; not to boast about, but to puzzle over

After all, I’ve been awarded thirty-four PhD’s

Honorary, they are called, because I defied the rules

I’m a dropout

Not by choice, but by fate’s sense of humor

By nature’s design

I’m dyslexic

I’m the son of immigrants of color

The island of slaves were dropouts also

They found their way to America’s Harlem ghetto

They found no work inside the law, but with cunning they survived outside the law

They made the rules, and endured

I’m one of the ones of color who got over