Colors of Blackness

Racism shouldn't have power, it should be powerless. Hatred should not be fruitful and allowed to multiply, the seeds it plants should be flowerless. If you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all. That's why we all have the right to remain silent. But apparently the colors of our blackness already speak too loud. With no action, we incite the violence? Long ago I vowed to be insightful, and respectful of different fields of vision. Not forever looking through a looking glass tainted with the blood, sweat, and tears of my ancestors in fields and kitchens. To have a broad perspective, but it's not returned by those who seek to favor fraud as a collective. Choosing to see difference as the mark of enemies, with memories so selective. On one hand I say to myself, they are still God's children, and God doesn't create anything defective. But it's hard, because of my continually abused people, I find myself feeling protective. Through my Father Whom is in Heaven, we are all forever binding. Look for the rainbow after the storm, because every dark cloud had a silver lining. Like, the realization that our identity as a people wouldn't be nearly as beautiful without the faith built through trials. I do my best to keep that at the forefront of my mind, as bodies pile. I mean, who more than us are well versed in that song that even the angels can't sing? So see, our colors of blackness, no matter how erased from human history, can't be erased from HIS story, and will forever remain a most beautiful thing!

This poem is about: 
My community

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