04. 24. 2018

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I remember the day the world lost colour.
We we're watching our screens,
While Trayvon was on the scene.
"Why would they shoot him? He is our brother?
Don't they know he has a family, like any other?"

I remember the day the world lost its joy
I watched as a mother sobbed for Freddie.
"Why didn't they tell him what to do? Wasn't he ready?"
When we shook our fists and raised our voices
And the accused, the abusers, the shamed roamed free.
After killing a boy.

I remember the day, the world was white.
And I was black.
And I realized how much of an untold crime it was
To have the features of my body, and the colour of my skin.
How it was cool to look black but not to be black.
How it was nice to sound black, but not to look black.
How it was nice to wear the colour of out skin, but not to be born with it.
Was it right? Was I right? Were they right?

I remember the day I felt ashamed
For the colour of my skin.
For the texture of my hair.
For the sound of my voice.
For the shape of my lips.

I remember the day, the world lost its shape.
And the ground under me was quaking
And the sky above me was shaking
And the trees around me was whistling
And the animals around me were roaring

And the world was broken and I was whole.
And the world was different and I was plain.
And the world was big and I was small.
And the world was white and I was black.
And the world was colourless and I was coloured.
And I remember the day, the world lost its colour.

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