Colour Poem by Michael Koelliker

Colour



White, Black.
Brown, Yellow.
There is constant attack.
White does not make me mellow.

There should be no colour.
Why not just be blue.
We are all from one great Mother.
Is that not a clue?

I am a poet first,
A “caucasian” last.
The words quench my thirst.
The colours are the past.

(4/23/2008)

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Michael Koelliker

Michael Koelliker

Victorville, California
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