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
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