The Colour of My Face
by
Can you see my face,
the one that’s staring you
in the eyes?
It’s as you see it.
It’s no different.
There is no disguise.
Do you see who I am,
does it change me?
Am I black enough,
for you to accept
my ancestry?
Do my eyes have to be brown?
And my skin,
as dark as night?
Ricky Macourt
Am I dark enough
to wear the scars
of my people’s plight?
Is my nose wide enough,
can you see
who I am,
or do I have to
explain myself
again and again?
I have my mothers eyes,
and the hair of my father.
One’s black,
one’s white,
do I have to explain further?