I feel the eyes watching me as I take a step
I hear the voices taunting me with every breath
Sometimes I wish that my skin was white
But would that really make things right?
I talk with others that are of my own
And the others laugh, so I'm all alone
I'm afraid that love will come harder than most
As I try so hard while the other's boast
But maybe my love will be greater then theirs
Not like the other love where nobody cares
And the person I am, I would never be
If the colour was not what you see.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem