My skin is like night. My eyes are like the stars.
I love myself, but why can't that love be OURS?
See I've grown up in places where light is good.
Our wedding dresses are white. The message is understood.
But night is scary and at funerals we wear black. It seems as if our color is under attack.
What is the message that our dark skinned children are being given?
That a life being dark isn't worth living?
We need to learn that light brown and black are one in the same
and that being darker doesn't mean you need to be ashamed.
Dark skin is a blessing though often in disguise.
It's hard to see thorugh all the deceit and look behind the lies.
But once you understand and begin to realize,
it becomes apparent they can't see through our star bright eyes.