Under the sun
Were many flowers.
Various colours-
Sunflowers, daffodils, tulips, roses of all kind even black!
Segregated but among each other.
They are different but equal in every way;
The colours appear to be more appealing-
The black roses feeling intimidated.
Beautiful melanin roses locked,
In a colourful place.
A black man-
Proud of who he is;
What his ancestors
Fought for, but
Angry, sad. He does not
Fit.
He is too big to
Fill the last space in the
Cruel jigsaw puzzle.
And puzzled he is, as to
Why he cannot fit, for
He sees no difference
Between black and white
Except that they are
Mere shades.
What if it was all in reverse?
A white man in a
Black man's world!
Being tortured day and night-
Told what to do and how to do it;
Punished if mistakes were ever made.
Thrown under the pelting sun from sunrise till sunset,
To work without food;
Only given bread and water when felt necessary!
One would say black men were nothing-
But arrogant, wealthy beings.
Who controlled everyone they saw beneath them.
But in truth it was all opposite-
No one could speak against the game being played;
If colours stood against colours then they were looked upon differently.
As traitors who rather stand with cursed black roses.
And after years of this dreadful game-
It was finally destroyed.
YOU ARE READING
Emotions
PoetryI'm just a girl who feels so many emotions due to constant events in my life😖. Never exactly sure how to feel or act and be myself, self conscious of how others see me😓. Poetry is art and art works are as calming as rain. Writing gives me peace...
