Which side would I run for
Who could I support?
Where would I fit in?
You can't sit on the fence
For something this emmense
Sometimes I forget what colour I am.
My skin is just like the clothes
that hang on my body every day
in a carefully selected, yet irrelevant way.
Your body, photocopier paper white
is sometimes the string for
my brown paper package, a stark contrast.
Other times I forget.
Out with friends our skins combine
And after a few too many beers and wines
We merge together, one community, one person
One lifeform, the same.
Together we are beautiful
Yet the colour of our skins
stalks our doors
Differnces pile up, leading to wars.
