I Always Made Sure I Had On Clean Underwear

Now that I have aged.
And grown into an acceptance,
I can appreciate.
I clearly comprehend...
Why some then,
Thought of me quite unusual.

You see...
I've never had a dysfunction,
I did not enjoy.
Or believe my blackness,
Was for me a disability.

I had not been raised...
To become caught up in the 'self'.
Or let someone's anger strike fear in me.

When I was called names...
And could not either spell them,
Or find them in the dictionary...
I always made sure I had on clean underwear.
That's right!

I remember my mother use to always say to us...
'I don't care what you do or don't understand,
You make sure when you leave outta here...
You bathe and have on clean underwear.'

And 'that' has been my philosophy all my life.
That's the only one I've kept,
That has made any sense to me.
With few debates to argue,
Do I encounter.
Knowing if I am ever made to sweat...
At least I am clean.
And ready for inspection.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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