The color of my skin



The color of my skin is akin
to the sublime sun,
it's almost blinding.

Is it the golden glaze it reflects
or the confidence that creeps under?
I wonder, I wonder.

Like the moon, its covered
in freckles, still undiscovered.

stretched by the atrocities of the world,
the swirled striae dwell unconcerned,
on my body, so curved.

The glittery glimpse of Aurora fails,
but that of my dermis prevails.

The vast expanse of brown,
like coffee brewed,
Ogling eyes on the tan supple
The ivory gloom of matted white,
A spectacle to the sinful mind.
Olive,chestnut,almond and mahogany
all in all , it screams agony,
when will it breathe in harmony?

Scrutinizing my shade,
won't come to their aid,
It will be portrayed
only a disgrace,
to the minds of human race.

My skin is my essence,
Blessed ,is its presence
Now,
Their folly comments,
wont make amends.

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