Colours
Darker than the shadows,
Lighter than the snow,
Yellow as a sunflower,
Or brown as freshly baked dough
Colours, they don't matter,
At least, I don't think so,
So why are our children being judged,
Before they really know?
Our children will be prosecuted,
Beaten, hurt and harmed,
And all because their skin is different,
To the skin on the other's arm.
Lighter than the snow,
Yellow as a sunflower,
Or brown as freshly baked dough
Colours, they don't matter,
At least, I don't think so,
So why are our children being judged,
Before they really know?
Our children will be prosecuted,
Beaten, hurt and harmed,
And all because their skin is different,
To the skin on the other's arm.
♠ ♠ ♠
Was reading a book that dealt with racism (The Secret Life Of Bees) for English class and we were asked to write a poem or racism. I hope this makes you think.