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Colourblind

A poem by Niyati Libotte

By Niyati LibottePublished 5 years ago 2 min read

Where are you from

Here

No, where are you really from

They say

In that way

That reminds me

Everyday I don’t look in the mirror

That I’m not the same

Ha

I forget

I wasn’t trained that way

Swimming the surf

Walking my turf

Sand, and sun, and bay

Unaware

As I say G’day

I have no claim

The one they staked

In 1788

Go back

To where you came from

Her fair hair frames

A glowering face

So righteous

In this place

Where land is everything

It’s a race

To own your slice

Can’t play nice

Competition all the way

Citizenship not a birthright

Borders

The order of the day

Between you and me

The thin veneer

Stripped

If only you knew

What your people did

In that place

Drawing your borders

Of deep decay

And we were forcibly

Ripped away

Unsuccessful

Says the letter

Should have done better

At university

Ummm

Did you read the CV

I topped the year

They cheered on stage

They cutely mispronounced my name

It’s ok

It’s always ok

Look the other way but

I have the badge, the film, the prize

To prove it, dear

This position is open to people of diversity

And just like that

Don’t you see

The words you’ve used

Guarantee

The lines are drawn

And I’m reduced

To only what you accept of me

It’s the what

Not the who

It’s the where

Not the why

It’s the endless questioning

In which I drown

Silent

In this diverse town

Where opportunities lie everywhere

Don’t you care

That they’re for you

And not for him, her, them, me?

Someone died

We saw him cry

I can’t breath

For once the camera wasn’t shy

Amazing

Someone watched his life

Just slip away

Mamma on his lips

He got the short end

Of that stick

His people have been

Flayed with

For hundreds of years

Why does this appear

Now

How could you get here silently without

Feeling the grief

Hysteria

On social media

As people drown

In symbols

Of faith and race

And all things other

Than the truth

Of this, of him

Of the world we’re in

There is no sin

That can top this

To live

Already condemned

Be born, grow, walk the streets

Hemmed

With what you will never achieve

Because

Just because of the

Colour of your

Skin.

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About the Creator

Niyati Libotte

Hi there, i’m a Writer/ Poet/ Multi-platform storyteller based in Sydney. I believe stories have the power to transform the world - build unity, compassion and empower sustainability- and I’ve been working in this endeavour for 15 years.

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