Mon, 05/08/2017 - 13:50 -- atandoh

Back home all I saw was black.

Now I have traveled and where is the black?

To the lady in green holding her light proud,

I wave and she waves back

I have come to a land of fake, wack, lack but not black.

Peach, brown, pale but not black.

I am lost what are these colors, are they like me?

No they are not. They lack pride in their skin so not black.

They lack hard work so not black.

They lack the meaning of ... black.

Black back home is working hard when not told to from day to nigh.

Working under the beating sun so long that your skin is dark.

Having pride is every stride that you take and every work that you do.

Black is power, strength, and pride so what is peach, brown and green?

This poem is about: 
My country
Our world


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