I have treasure in my chest,
Locked away from the prying eyes of the world,
Kept for only my eyes to feast on.
My treasure
is in each and every soul that I sow,
From my father's farm,
And the bodies that carry,
Are colourless gold.
Since no matter how pale or dark,
The shades of melanin I paint them with,
My treasure is still colourless gold.
Needed to speak here. Colourless gold is a poem about race. For racism to end we should stop defining ourselves with colour. We're all the same in the end. Unless if we know the colour of souls thennnnn.....go at it.
YOU ARE READING
To The Introverts
PoetryAt the unforgiving eyes of the world, I lay here with a pen in hand, To write about the secrets I keep, The untold stories of an introvert.
