Paul Trotter

Rookie [Warrior Poet]

My Black Skin

The first thing you see when you see me
The last thing you think of when you think of free
There lies the pain the years of blame
My black skin calls to you, speaks to you, and has a name
Stained by grace labeled a race
Destroyed by fear
Whipped through the years
Pain surrounds the name that’s found
In chains it’s been bound

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