Let’s face it.
My birth place has left its trace
a fixed stamp on a face called race, 
on this, a surface of brown colour I carry
with me to stay till they burn me or bury.
Brown, brown is the color of me
My brown skin is so bold, chocolate and sweet
My brown skin is just a color
It doesn’t not make me any more or less better than others
still for the glory of our blackness
to fulfill our destiny as beautiful as
the curtains of Solomon expressed in our skin colour 
as free as the wind look what God has done
I stretch an open hand, you slap it away in disgust
I reveal my heart, its kindness, you spit on it
Browned off, I put this in black and white,
tethered to a color of coat we are born with,
who we are is bound by the color that covers us,
Indeed skin color runs deep.