The color of my Skin.
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.

Como un bailador,
I'll twist away from your nasty tricks.
I'll thrive, Child of the sun.
Brown I am.

It’s hard not to feel the pain
That forever lifts its head again
You try to shame me with your stain
Of me being who I proclaim
As if by chance I could change

To spite you, I would remain the same
Dance and shout and protest
While you try to keep me in my place
because in your eyes my blackness
Is still seen by you-- a disgrace

******* your white race

I am multi coloured
As in multiethnic
For I am arab,
Chechen, Roma,
And central Asian
Himalayan and Uighur
But that has been me since
I always all over the ****
      M
                       A
  P
That is my DNA
Hence I am multicoloured

I have lived a childhood
Of sadness!
Though I was a
Sweet and kind child
Brilliant in every way
The other pegged my for my
Race and my looks
Oh the sadness
I had to live
And never knowing real love
From another woman

We've been through…

Mopped floors
Porches swept
Windows scrubbed
And cleaned

Grass cut
Gulf course greens
Your garbage emptied
And dumped

Doors opened
That once was closed
Sitting anywhere on
A bus

From
takeout windows
Kitchens in the back
Drug store countertops

To
Front door service
Indoor seating as long
As it was in the back

From
Service doors
To Hotel doors
To Highrise vacation
Resorts

From
Back door only
To front door
To every door in
the house

From
poor house
to urban house
to a seat in the
white house

Yet
There's still a door
Closed to us

A door that
not even you can budge
a door that will be
barred and shut
even when I'm
long since gone

A Door that can only
be opened
by the will of
ALL of us

Is it though
Is it really da ‘ Man
That keeps you acting
The fool?
Or
Does your lack of maturity
Cause's you to take no responsibility
For your actions

Don't y think you should
Take control of your life
Stop blaming the man
For your strife

Get off your knees and make a stand
Stop giving the man a hand in where
You land

With the man, stop looking for a fight
and set your future in sight

Stop living only day-to-day and
Turn your life from dismay
Stop giving credit to the man
And listen to what I have to say
It ain't the man who's making you
This way

I talk
Face to face
With the man

Who
Invites me to sit,
Kneel and call him
Sir

I
Prefer to stand

And

You'll get no sir
From me

The black man – like a pretzel on the grass –
is sitting vilified because of race,
and option less, he has to let it pass;
pretending not to sense he's out of place.

Another couple point, and laugh, and stare:
fair skin and hair proclaim their easy life.
A honeyed world means they don’t have to care:
their actions cut him like an arctic knife.

Behind, the sacred stone and glass stands for
a fruitful tree of life that’s meant for all,
but cherries are too costly for the poor.
Sweet learning for the rich, though they are dull.

It’s up to you and I to fight against
all orchards that we think unfairly fenced.

Souls are colourless,

black and white the setups that --


separate people.