We the Colored

My skin is in error. Now I am clothed in revile and terror. Flesh was stitched to my hands to feel, to touch. However, the snares of men have entrapped my love Like a ghost forgotten, loneliness has made its home in my heart. Life is a door, yet I gaze at it through windows Wondering to God when hate will reap what it sows. If color is so important, hate over love instead Then remember all our hearts were born red. Mortal we are, blood we have bled Yet we won’t submit to racist hatred. Many voices unheard, many speeches unsaid Yet we won’t conform, even on our deathbeds. Abusive men have spat upon our knowledge and joy. Sobbing has become our meal, distress, our drink. Roosevelt’s voice has ceased to echo. The dream of Dr. King is hastening toward a nightmare. Alas, while I survive in the confusion of this world, I assemble my void heart with a glimmer of hope, I piece together my broken mind and proclaim: Fly far far away from here to a good land undiscovered Hand in hand we stand as one, we the colored Through all directions we shall unify. An atmosphere where white and black bodies never cry. A time when our humanity mixes into gathering and mouths, indeed will sing. Sounding the bell in harmony, yelling, shouting, “Let freedom ring, let freedom ring, let freedom ring!”