The Pigmentation Of My Skin Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

If I never said a word,
About 'stuff' I thought about...
Would my not saying anything,
Be interpreted by someone else...
With a stopping of my thoughts about it?

I heard it said to me,
In varying degrees of sentiments expressed...
How strong and resilient I appeared.
And that I had the patience of 'Job'.
Able to endure and move on without dropping a tear.

I've heard it mentioned to me,
I rarely complained about my differences.
Or reacted negatively,
When this was brought to my attention.
And with an air of confidence I continued to stride.

And why should I say anything about 'stuff',
I wish to keep inside?
Everywhere I go the pigmentation of my skin,
Seems to speak for itself.
Or the ones who lack it I would hear tell others,
What they believe I feel, think and know....
About 'everything' without hearing a word from me.