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People have always seen the surface,
The surface of a book,
The surface of an object,
The surface of a person
Pretty or ugly,
Brunette or blonde,
Black or white
As though one’s inner beauty can be seen
One’s inner soul
“This isn’t me,
My colour isn’t who I am”
They cry,
But no one hears
No one listens.
Black is strong,
Black is bold,
Black is the colour of the ashes we will all become.
We are one,
Under the sun,
We are together,
For ever and ever
And we love each other,
We love every single one of us.
There comes a time where silence is betrayal
Poetry
United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland
