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White and Black: Poem 4b (10) of Six
We can reverse the names
But there's still a label
It's not something you can budget like all your games
Not like paying for cable
I'm unpredictable
Sometimes adaptable
Not always amiable
And every other word comprising of syllables
But not just one
And never some
So don't call me black, and don't call me white
Stay out of my sight
And let the reality of love become
It knows nothing physically seen
Knows no regular rhyme
Just like this poem
This anthem rather
My plea for you to stop defining me,
if you can't get it right
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