The color of my Skin.
My deep, dark eyes.
The curl of my Hair.
I can feel your the heat vindictive stares.
The twist of my tounge.
I speak my language with courage,
Not with care of your fears
Illigal Alien, They call my kind.
All I want is a place thats mine.
Nomatter, I'll continue to stick out
Like a sore thumb, I will not run
from your vengance.
I'll stay here and take it.
You held power over them
but never over me.
My curly hair runs long, wild, and free.
You have lost the fear held
in the eyes of my uncolonized ancestors.
Now I face you with strenth
My dark eyes like stone cold pools of depth that
you tried to breed out.
Como un bailador,
I'll twist away from your nasty tricks.
I'll thrive, Child of the sun.
Brown I am.
Brown-eyed children of the sun is a song by Daniel Valdes written about the injustices toward farmworkers. I drew insperation from the ballad as the farmworkers rights is what set off the Chicano civil rights movement which I hold very dearly to my self-identity.