Not Quite Right Poem by Hebert Logerie

Not quite white
Not quite black
Not quite bright
Not quite brown
In this small town
Not quite yellow
Like this bowl of jell-o
Not quite shy
Not quite a guy
Not quite a gal
Where is the general?

Nobody is real white
Nobody is real black
We are all victims of the clock
In this tiny block
Nobody is real right

Nobody is quite right
Oh! They want me to be quiet
Telling the truth
Is like playing the lute
I have never seen white people
I have never seen black people
Everything is like an illusion
We must not trust our vision
At times
Too many crimes
Too many lies
Open our eyes
And our brain, the cries
Mean nothing
Nothing means nothing.

Nobody is quite right
Because things are too tight
We are always guessing
We are always dreaming
Nobody is real brown
In this town
Let’s stop the lies
Before the sun dies.
Nobody is quite right
Under the gleam of the bright light
Now, I see why they want me to be quiet.