Yours Truly

You approved of them, for you marked them white,

Appraised them innocent, pure, everything deemed ‘right’.

Then you glared at me,

An entirely different shade you did see,

Was threatened by my unique entity,

You labelled me,

A hea-

then.

You branded me black,

As if it were a mark of dishonour,

Disdain! Scorn! Shame!

Anything different, a horror.

You looked me up and down,

With your eyes rage red.

You were scornful and frowned,

Like you wanted me dead.

You could never be proud,

For my colours were too bold, too loud,

And for I did not conform to your cult of a crowd.

A cascade of blue,

But not bright like the sky.

It was a sombre hue,

A melancholic cry.

I closed my eyes,

Put on my disguise,

Was made to apologise,

And told ‘Sacrifice!’,

Reminded that I will die,

If I did not comply.

You failed to hear my cries,

Yet like a new dawn I will rise,

I will be me and revolutionise.

You stickered me a sinner, everyone else a saint,

For everyone else was a winner, and me, the wrong colour of paint.

But those who cared and those not bound by blood to me,

Saw the magenta and cherry red I was trying to free —

Authenticity —

For I bear no crimes, I simply loved he,

He who loves me.

A lot of languished lapis clouds amalgamated above,

How dare you, how could you?! — Your conditional love.

I was once considered white, one of which you were fond,

But now as you see me you want to control my bonds.

Your toxicity is idiocy, your manipulation bearing brown,

Your prejudiced views, extremely profound.

The jealous phthalo green, highly astound,

My soul becomes engulfed, trapped as it surrounds.

You make assumptions,

Generalisations so crude.

For what evidence do you have,

Upon these remarks you just brewed?

Your thoughts are highly misconstrued,

The darkness of ignorance, permanent, like it has been tattooed.

My soul once sunshine yellow,

Has been dimmed to be mellow.

Slowly turns purple,

As the melancholy hurtles.

Your words are like knives,

Wounding me inside,

No crimson spills on the ground,

But my heart, it drowns.

That flicker of orange, of hope, of resilience,

Has dwindled from what was once a radiant brilliance.

But one day as the sun sets,

The hurt I will forget,

And I will no longer feel numb,

As a new dawn will come.

For your label of black,

Is my colour of beauty,

A calming tone of lilac,

With a glisten of ruby.

I have done no wrong,

I have done no harm.

I am with whom I belong,

Your weapons, please,

Unarm.

Yours truly.