From light skin to dark twins,
pearly white and filthy skin,
seen from the eyes of The Others.
They put injustice into the breast
of our existence
But that is not my reality
Listen to the beauty of a race
born to Kings and Queens
now needing the acceptance
of who? The Others?
No. Not in my reality.
Reality for me begins with
the melody of smooth chocolate
then shakes to the tempo of
mahogany
slowly grooves to the beat of
ebony
and tips the scale of roasted chestnut
with the fullness of my heritage.
Reality is
rich brown that gleams in the sun
and sets off smoke at night
and mothers with full lips and figures
who teach the Word to raise you right.
It's lush lashes around eyes
that express the essence
of lifetimes
and brothas and sista's
bonded together, willing to fight
and to tell The Others
"Keep your injustice
we've come together
from yellow to brown
young and old
we have stories
not yet told
ones only the pure of eye can
behold.