Farce
It's not an identity
That displays the affinity.
It's the question of whose black,
That they keep themselves attacked!
Not from the outside but from the inside,
They seem closed as if afraid,
Stunted in a mindset dim...
That sheds no light to their shade.
And in this disposition...
There is a competition,
To show themselves aware...
Others might stop and stare!
But there are those who know who they are,
And shrug off being color barred!
Living to be inside color free.
Because the mind is not restricted,
By this farce...
Or predetermined destiny!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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