SKIN
(Tribute to The Color of Water) We were born to a mother and father who bathed me in possibilities
And swaddled in civility
It felt like immunity
And twelve kids were great company
But others saw differently,
I had my doubts that came true
But didn't want to see them through,
People walk around their faces placid
But you took me in under no circumstances,
And I didn't ask for you, mother,
But maybe we were made to see color,
These dark shades of black and brown
Have never been able to put you down,
You raise your soldiers up to be diligent and free
But boundaries are put up by society,
Born to a white woman and black man
They stand together hand-in-hand,
They try to drown us with hatred and despair
But you can see us floating there,
We try to cope with dope yet we know there’s still hope
It’s not a joke,
And my mother’s soldiers once again rise up from the graves
Of which race has confined them
But we choose not to be divided then,
I have come to terms with my identity
But how can I know you
If I do not know me,
Was twice I’ve seen a person die
And come alive to say they survived,
My mother,
We try to hide our history
But you cannot hide what has been seen.