Little Black

Little black they called her

When little kids we were.

I was fair and she was dark.

Our contrast could not be more stark.

Unkind remarks within earshot.

Shameful behavior of grown-ups.

She was made to feel less and unblessed.

Their careless ways enraged the little me.

I was certain it was not beyond me

For a great plan to rectify their flippancy.

I prepared her for their next visit.

I put on her the best outfit.

I talcum powdered her all over liberally.

She and I would look fair equally.

Alas, my plan failed miserably.

They laughed at the sight of her.

Anguish and pain they did cause her.

They said she looked like chocolate gone moldy.

Their jest of a small child was truly unholy.

Never again did I attempt to make her fair.

The futility of it all we were both aware.

She grew up as little black.

She made her life great despite of the fair she lacked.

She achieved much despite how the odds were stacked.

She still thinks of herself as little black.

But she knows in her heart of hearts

How to live life joyfully like a piece of art.

She has crushed their nonsense.

The ridicule of a child for her color is on their conscience.

Today she is all the colors of the rainbow.

If only they could see her now, they would say whoa!