Colors of Pain


United States
38° 2' 40.2072" N, 121° 13' 41.8656" W

Do you know about the past?
When your ancestors thought they wouldn’t last?
Sitting in the back of that class
Words that hurt more than walking on broken glass
Moving on past the discrimination
Building up a home, a stable foundation
Tears on the windowpane, pain
Slaves in their chains, going insane
Do you see what I see after the rain?
I see the colors of pain

I see the red on my grandfather’s hands and back
As he came home from working on the train track
Working as hard as he did,
How could he be an item of a bid?

I see the orange skies, wondering why
Why they even try, every moment that passed by
How they got to that certain point where enough is enough
When will they decided to rise up, play rough?

I see the yellow sun in the skies, morning
As my ancestor’s master beat them as a warning
Chains broke free and segregation came,
They took an aim, walked away and overcame, heads up, no shame

I see green grass running from left to right
Because of skin colors, both sides wanted a fight
Drive a mile north, you see paved roads and lights fully lit
Drive a mile south, you hard working parents who lifted their children’s spirit

I see blue waters and a bridge over all the tears
We all come together now and came past all obstacles and fears
United, undivided, power to the young and the old
We stand together, stronger than ever, we’re able to uphold

I see purple mountains as the sun sets on the earth’s canvas, beautiful
As all the colors, all races, seem to come in harmony, peaceful, wonderful
We judge through the heart, mind and soul,
Not by the color, race, and never take power or control

No pain, no gain, where after the rain
Are the colors of pain

Guide that inspired this poem: 


Mary R.

This is breathtaking.


Awww, thank you!


This really impresses me. I will have to read your other poems. This is the type of poem that makes me think and image your words.

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