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Human- what is it? 
Ask a biologist and he’ll tell you.
A lump of flesh maybe, some bones.
A mesh of veins, arteries and blood. 
Ask a poet and she’ll tell you.
Human is so unique, so beautiful.
For one person another may make their heart beat,
For another they might also, but with hate.
The power of so much lies in human.
But the way it is born changes so much.
What paint it is covered in.
whether its eyes are larger or smaller.
The way its hair curls or straightens.
Does it have a right of life?
Maybe.
Somewhere else though, 
not here.
For it may be regarded as human,
but it isn’t HUMAN.
The rights may be appointed to it,
Or it may not.
Depending on how well it denounces itself.
How much it wills to change its paint.
One human painted itself white,
But still wasn’t HUMAN.
Maybe to another species, this hate makes no sense.
‘The paint of human changes so much?’
They would think
‘The way its eyes Reflect its story in black, blue and brown?’
it was born unknowing of what rights were,
but now it knows.
Human rights are the rights of HUMAN not human.

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