EIGHTEEN :   family portrait
I came from the red
and tried leaving instead
but she clung to me, wailing, nails
deep in my skin
  I compete with the green
my identity unseen
     as I walk, I am further
                                       than I've ever been
I was raised by the white
who turned
black from a fright
and tossed my outside, to the curb
with a thud
I am pieces of rainbow
   where stone leads me, I go
but I fear that its colour

itakes me back to my
blood.
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