I have felt the hatred for the colour of my skin.
They praise soil that grows green yet I’m treated like sin.
Maybe they characterized brown as the symbolism of dirt,
And it really never mattered how much it would hurt.
Why is the colour white superior yet considered a shade?
Yet anything but white seems it was meant to just fade.
Do we lack a sense of colour? why is white considered peace?
Yet we rest when the sky is black, that’s when our mind is at ease.
Maybe the colour of my skin symbolized I was meant to be a tree,
Rooted in terrains that never move while inhaling the breeze.
I grew tired so I flew in blue skies and became the brown hawk,
A lost mind; in an area that turned grey, I became my own rock
- S.A
About the Creator
S.A 3ssay
I started writing as an outlet for my mental health. At the age of 15 writing became my getaway. Writing poetry eventually turned into writing music and I explored the field as a recording artist. I now go by S.A and have music published.
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