Not the colour of my hair nor my skin
I am black for that's the colour I am badly painted
I'm black not because of the dubbed colour of my soul
I'm black because my life is under the control
I am a progeny of the first African slaves
My mind is what it is because it was drowned with
The first Igbo slaves
I am conduit of good economics in my own Land
Which I cannot afford to own again
I am a creator of everything you see
I am despised and degraded merely for my might,
And the colour & texture of my skin,
That can withstand the sweltering equatorial sunlight
Name me ebony,
Name me melanin
Name me black, but that's just an utter fallacy
Of whom I am
I am black and that is beyond your naïve comprehension
I am black like your education, law and religion,
As you study your tutorial, quote your constitution,
Or abide by the book of life
I am black the tyres that carry and flee with white auto mobiles
To greater heights
I am the black that colours your beautiful sky so you can
Be able to identify the stars at night
I am the black that is also notorious of shooting down your stars at night
I am the black you never wish to be, but yet you tacitly covet my might
I the black sands of the sea that ensure you always see a-blue-water
You abominate me for my appearance yet subliminally admire me
Because I am omnipresent like your religious belief
The world is as it was initially believed to be (void) without me,
If men are made out of mud,
What is the colour of the soil?
I AM, the son.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Wow, what a piece of food for soul........ truth be told brother
Thank you brother.