Beautiful black butterflies stirred up the wind,

 and with God's assistance a southern breeze created my beautiful brown skin.

Skin that glistens in the sun and blends with the night.

Skin that darkens with the sun and illuminates with a lack of light.

Magical skin that stretches over my entire body and forms to my exact mold.

Skin that dares to be different and is ever so bold.

God gave me such a profound gift when he made my skin,

but I began to doubt that when my ears were filled with sins,

saying my color was no more than the dirt my feet were mashed into

and my color was no more than the night in which evil was present.

My skin was no more than a category which made me unfavorable to anything or anyone who's color wasn't mine.

In my darkest hour, God reached into my past and brought forth the memory that would save my life.

He showed me the moment when he created me.

The moment when he picked my eyes and He chose my hair and then He painted me my beautiful color

and on the color it read beautiful.

No one could ever take away the power that lies within my skin because my skin reads beautiful.

My beautiful brown skin.