I see whiteness, lightness; is it righteousness?
I feel invisible, a little miserable.
Few Black women, more Black men.
White women and men and dogs galore.
I abhor the fact, the lack of colorful faces
in places where there used to be more.
The city is nicer on the surface,
but to what purpose? Who for?
The scene is pretty but lacks an underscore.
Sore, sore, sore of a space. Sore of a place.
Bandaged to heal, but when you peel—rip—it off
a scar covers up what was unsure.
And you can’t always remember the original lore.
Shaleia Rogers-Lee is an emerging poet. She grew up in Delaware County and currently lives in Philadelphia. She writes about Philadelphia, women’s experiences, being Black in America, fairy tales, and anything she wants to explore. Shaleia has an MA in Writing Studies and a BA in English.