The colour of my skin

Why is the colour of my skin,

so triggering to you,

why does it bother you,

why does it disgust you,

I will never understand why the colour of my


deserves so much hatred,

why is it easier for you to frown at me,

than to smile at me?

Dark malicious eyes seek evil,

spiteful poisonous hearts wish evil,


the beauty of the colour of my skin,

maybe one day,

you will see my people with love just like I do,

you will no longer feel anguish,

you will no longer feel shamed

by the colour of my skin,

it seems impossible for the world to stop

hating, detesting and loathing,

but I hope one day you will find it in your hearts to

see happiness, compassion and comfort,

in the colour of my skin.


I rarely write an explanation after I write a poem but I found it more or less provoking to do it for this one.

Racism is still such a significant issue. It exists and who knows, it probably will always exist. It breaks my heart knowing there are so many people in the world who just hate black people. They see the colour of our skin and wish the worse things to happen to us. Why? What have we done for you to feel so heartless, speak with such anger and disparage black people.

I am proud to be black and I always will be. Yet I hope one day the world will see us through love, we are not the opposition, we are human beings.


2 thoughts on “The colour of my skin”

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