Obsidian Black

I lived near the U.N. As I turned, leaving Third To enter First Avenue; Right adjacent the United Nations, I saw a man Quite fit for Nat Geo's cover. He was Diplomat decked in white In broad day light What magnificent sight; From neck to feet he owned the street His African garb so neat, It billowed about with breeze. As he strutted closer still I saw black black He was the color black History, mystery, and strength oozed I feared straight stare; Yet imagined white pearls, white orbs of his eyes But I, I felt speechless! My, oh my; there are black people, I thought Smooth even toned obsidian black That was not the end of that, I had to look back. *