Someone once asked me if I am ashamed to be Black.
I was created in Gods image, so why would I be ashamed of that?
In actual facts, Black is neither my color or my race.
I am a human being, who happens to have a brown face.
The face of that gorgeous place, where life was once created.
Were we always this feared and hated or was that emotion incubated?
I am the color of that dirt that God used to fashion us,
but all there ever see is black and thus resort to harrassin’ us.
Black is truly a mentality, a reality of how I am viewed.
A culture containing people, whom are multi-colored, toned and hued.
History has made it my identity with a certain character attached.
Just because my melanin is greater than yours,
you feel I am the bad one out of the batch.
Saint and sinner. Good and evil; all resides in our perception.
A devil comes in many colors; birthing lies and sweet deception.
How did we conceive this trite conception?
That one’s skin can be a sin while the other one denotes themselves
as being guaranteed to win?
~ Jah Soul