I feel bad for black sometimes,
It’s not a colour but a lack thereof.

Some wear it to mourn the dead,
Some wear it because they are intrigued,
Some wear it to follow the fashion head,
Some wear it out of need.

It’s the most controversial colour.
I think it’s confused,
Does it stand for impending doom?
Does it stand for ignorance?
Or,
Does it stand for the freedom of a race?
Does it stand for class?

It ***** in all the energy around,
Only taking, never giving.
Why does it do that though?
Why does it act like a sociopath?
Is it because the other colours don’t treat it right?

The others call it a colour,
Even though it’s not,
Even with the same classification,
It’s not one of them.

I wonder if it feels lonely?
Will its dilemma never end?
Will it always stand alone?
Or will it find a friend?