The wound that never heals but continues to grow

Skin broken cannot be repaired Healing is possible but trauma stays their Invisible to those with a privileged eye Visible to those who still ache and cry Skin will cover what the heart won't show A pain felt by those who know What it was like to be named ghetto Time can heal but what if it don't When the glue that holds isn't strong enough Not through strength But being constantly poked By those who want the cracks to be loathed Those who want the mirror of perfection to be uncloaked To be released from insecurity invoked So they aren't the only ones who are broken Inferiority they won't accept Partnered with jealous to remain 'perfect' By colonisation and cultural theft They can't be seen with any weakness They wear their pride with their chest Being less than black - the blueprint Is something their fragile ego won't let happen So instead their hatred is something they project Because even though we are the foundation They will claim the structure instead To convince a world they are the architect The ones who created the blueprint When in reality it was us who birthed the project Instead of accepting their jealous feelings They decided accountability is something they couldn't associate with They felt it would be more appropriate if history was whitewashed