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The Society Calls Me Black!

I looked into the mirror, but all that was painted was black,
"Blackey," they call me, but my brain isn't dark.
These potentials led to pits in the dark,
Welcome, the society calls me black!
I could have danced to the rhythm of their appraisals,
But my "Kolomentalism" left me in columns.
Like Matrix, I left my rows to get my arch,
The society calls me black!

My color made me the "?rú" in my territory.
With my possessions, I'm called an ape with so much savor.
Why must I obey?
The society calls me black!

With my sound base in the pharynx, why do I remain voiceless?
My talks went blank, so I was soundless.
Yet my intuitions are invaluable, but the locks that seized my voice are mysteries.
The society calls me black!

My uniqueness is now barbaric,
Living in a life that snares.
My "ila," the beauty, is now a mockery.
Because society still calls me black.

©Butterfly

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