Colors

    Colors are only colors. The eyes, the ignorance is
what draws a line to race. Why must it all come down
to what my lineage is? All I know is that my family is
my family. My line started at Adam and Eve. From
there do not ask.

    Softly I set foot outside. Breathing a calm. Trying
to step away from an argument. That is the right way,
correct? Why my mother's mother and father's
mother's father matters to people, I am clueless. I am
here. Shrugging of shoulders.

     They did not make who I am now. Ah. Just
breathe more. Inhale. Cough. Exhale. Sneeze. Now
a sigh breaks loose.

    How, why some cannot realize skin color is not
something I think of. I find beauty everywhere. Yet
the reminders of imperfections we all carry. Ah how
I want to scream but just walk away in the midst of
an oncoming fight.

   Why must I be classified by my skin? Why not the
levels of unique features Jehovah has given me?
Alas in this system plenty seems unfair, unjust still
there is hope.

   So at times I tire of hearing people say oh you are
just a white girl who understands nothing. Please,
do become surprised when the realization of cover
is not the same as the interior. The layers of pushings
and planting are so mixed. I cannot place on my
finger nor imagine fully the context of how many
variety of colors are intertwined to make me who I am.

    All that is necessary to know is that Jehovah loves
me, I love myself and that I care, love everyone I meet
regardless of what lays upon top of soul. So those
who think they know who I am, don't brand nor
classify me as one color because I am many colors.
The best of me and more to come.

    Unique, quirky and absolutely beautiful.
        Just as Jehovah wanted me to be.