My olive skin provides me with ample
opportunities to exploit my white privilege.
Depending on the hue of the situation, I can
portray any socially accepted image.
As a kid, I would summon somber rain clouds
in ignorant attempts to wash away
my pigmentation. My uniqueness was
being falsely labeled as a natural violation.
As an adolescent, society introduced me to
pleasant antidepressants.
Teaching me lessons on how to suppress
my intuitive questions.
As an adult, I have accepted the opal dimensions
of my multi-colored reflection.
I am a proud person of color
and I refuse to be lessened.
About the Creator
Kale Ross
Author | Poet | Dog Dad | Nerd
Find my published poetry, and short story books here!
Smartystan
Rain didn’t stop Mala. Swaddling for Edgar covered the baby boy’s body and she held her other son’s, Burton, six-year-old hand. The mud, muck, and mire didn’t hinder her from staying on course with her mission. From Pennsylvania, they all trekked to get closer and closer to land that was never promised but simply implied. Each step produced more mud caked around her sneakers. She didn’t care. Her rucksack provided them protein packs to put into plastic bottles and nuts and berries and dried meats to keep their muscles in good health. Water hydrated. She rested. The baby had been asleep the entire time that she had started her journey and her eldest son remained silent throughout the excursion as well.
By Skyler Saunders3 days ago in Chapters
Comments (1)
Liked this very well. Powerful writing!