This sonnet addresses the irony of calling someone "coloured," highlighting the contrast between black skin, which remains constant, and white skin, which changes with emotional or physical states. This poem reflects on how the colour of one's skin can shift depending on circumstances, challenging the societal labels that define people by their appearance.

When I was born, my skin was dark as...

Read and leave comments (6)

Lost among the nameless crowd, A quiet ghost, no cries allowed. Drifting shadows, passing by, No hello, no wondering why. A life unbound, yet bound so tight, A flickering flame in endless night. The world it speaks, but not to me, A dialect I’ll never see. I tried to stand where others meet, But tripped upon my own two feet. Their laughter rang, a foreign sound, A melody I’ve neve...

Read and leave comments (1)