Color Is But An Identity

color is but an identity torn between seasons of potential similarities the darkness of my skin does not define the tone of my heart Lies tell the truth yet the truth tells lies the confusion I held was the clarity I had overlooked yet it lay before me as bright as the darkness that befell my fate If you knew that we both have blood running through our veins yet yours is pumped by fury which to you reflects the gold in it and sees the coal in my own I may be dark skinned but my heart is as white as your skin colour I am as different as similar to you Then why taunt the innocence of my appearence why press against the silence of my soul through the negligence of my innocence you have found the decency of my frailties Anywhere is my somewhere because you turned home into a grail of tears you made me solemn to sears I had dreams but you made them numb they succumb to the recklessness of your fury FRED ECABETH