Some Good Done

Biologically I am
A mixture More and less
Complicated than I claim to be
Culturally

My mother my father they
Have their own identities
My phenotype is another story
Entirely

Where I grew up and how
Who my ancestors were
And why they died
All conspire to define me
In ways that are beyond even me.

Ambiguity is my home
Either/or does not apply
And my existence defies
So many names and claims
Of place
It would be a lie to check a race

All I know for certain
Is that it matters
That my existence
Confounds you
That your inability to classify me
Bewilders you
And there is some good done
Each time I cause confusion
There is some good done