The World Is A Box Of Crayons Poem by Felicia Garcia

you may hate me because im brown.
you may hate them because they're white
you may hate all the world's colors, but
you must realize that
there's no fight.

you walk with such diligence
considering yourself so grand
but when you look at me
you compare me to the dirt
on which i stand.

i will not cry nor will i scream or tell you
that you will reap
what you sorrow onto me.
instead i'll tell you what you
must hear
something about which many have shed
a tear.

for years we have struggled.
for years we had to grind.
for too long we have searched
for what we need to find.

now here it is before you,
but you are too blind to see it.
no matter. I shall set the candle
that needs to be lit.

You may hate my brown. You may hate my black.
You think white is what
this world lacks.
But listen to me and listen well
for I have a secret to tell.

this world in which we live
is of all colors with no locks.
Do you know why?
Well, the world is a crayon box! ! !

That's right, our world is a
crayon box; green for our grass
and red for hair locks.
Brown for me and white for you.
I told you my secret is true!

Now that you know
I hope you understand
that it is both you and me
that color this land.