Today, from the whip of slavery
On my back there is no weal
But the legacy, history and old days
They gripped my mind, prejudice to feel.
Cause I am born and grown black.
That is legitimate to think,
Cause back in time I remember,
What was done on the cost of Atlantic
Now, I didn’t want to believe
The cover of my face the color of my skin
Will held people back to know me from within
Because I learned to let go
And from the shackles of hatred I broke away free
Caring for every color, other people as I see
Mother Theresa.
In networks of veins beneath our skin
I urged myself what is in there to see
A gushing red blood is what we all share
In the name of color, to hate, then why should we care?
Is it not enough, to have a common red color?
Entwining vessels form our entire whole
We breathe the same air, having same human soul
We all are red, under our black and white faces
Why so important, to hate, in the name of races.
White, Black, green, brown and velvet
They are merely colors in a crayon set
So I am black …
Just like one stick of color from a crayon pack
So I am black...
Do I have to fill my head with feeling of spite?
To my good friend with the color white
In many years of imprisonment, he doesn’t hold any grudge
And to payback he stood against, Nelson Mandela
He is an emblem of unity and determination
Let follow his step, say no to discrimination
So I am black…
White color next to me, we form our crayon pack
This world
Fasika Ayalew
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/so-i-am-black/
