I need to shed this skin
To rip this flimsy fabric
from my frail body
Which only conceals me
I need to pluck every grain of hair
Which seems to confuse and cause dispair
If this is what it takes for you to see me
I will peel this skin
like an orange that bleeds
When cut too deep
To emancipate self
From the accusation of a colour
That pre-paints destiny
Fate and status in this world
I will tear and rend this skin
Till nothing is left but me
And I stand naked
bruised and blood-dripping
Will you see me then?
Could you really see me?
Colored colorless, me
No different from you
I breathe the same air
Cry the same tears
And feel the same pain
I smile and laugh and bleed
like you, no different
My skin, just a cover
Like the various tints
and shades of fabrics that clothe our bodies
Yet you persist to alienate me
To segregate and discriminate me
Why hate me? Why stereotype me?
Because of a colour?
If we were to strip the rainbow of its colours
Could you imagine the beauty lost?
But the rainbow, a thing of beauty
Of mystery and wonder
A thing of color
Continues to spread itself across our skies
A testimony to us all
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A passionate cry of the heart. CP