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My granddad was light,
But not that caramel light,
or even that peanut butter light,
but that "you sure you not white?"
yeah, that type of light.
My mama told me that back then,
when you were that light,
sometimes you wouldn't stop people
from assuming you were white.
She said Granddad was no exception.
I wouldn't call it a misdirection,
more like a common misconception
that he allowed to go on without correction.
And yeah it made me angry.
At least it did when I was younger,
'cause it flew way over my head 
at the time when my mama said
if you weren't white, they'd turn you red
or better yet steal you up out your bed
and leave you swinging from a tree instead.
But now I'm older...
and it took me a while to grasp
that this shit really ain't close to equal,
not slavery, but it's damn near a sequel,
'cause they done locked up half my people,
then said we got there on our "free will."
But that's another story...

I was thinking of Granddad the other day,
and it made me wonder...
What if I was that light?
Not a little bit too much cream light,
or "are you mixed with anything?" light,
but that "You black? Man, you sure that's right?"
Yeah, that type of light.
Would I correct all the assumptions?
Yeah I know it's a different time but still,
maybe I'd be curious how it'd feel
to be exposed to exclusive opportunities,
included in the criminal immunities,
and roam free in the gated communities
unarmed, without fear of somebody shooting me.
So I no longer blame him
'cause we all want the same freedoms
he just happened to be light enough to catch a couple.
But don't let that fool you,
He was light but his blood was brown.
My mama said he was the proudest of black men
and taught her black is as beautiful as its ever been
a sentiment she passed down through her kin,
so I'm gonna love my beautiful skin
until I see my Granddad again.
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