I don't know why I wrote this poem. I just was reading about prejudice on the Internet a while ago, and I got really mad and just wrote. Tell me what you think, if you can read it all without getting bored.
Why did God make colors?
Shades of black and white
That are really brown or tan
And never the color we call it?
Faces painted with his colors,
Colors that split us apart,
Colors that paint pictures
In little hating heads
That different is bad?
Or maybe it is us
Making these pictures,
Draping faces with labels,
Shining cloths of hate,
That obscure the person
And leave a color or name behind.
Maybe it is us
Looking at a person
And seeing color first.
Perhaps God should have made
A world of colorblind,
Where color had no meaning.
Perhaps we should have listened
To the spirit
And not the color.
Perhaps all of us should have
Learned we were wrong.
Would it have made a difference?
Perhaps.
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