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Colours

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e-Writer in Residence

Mya Kidson | April 13, 2017

In honour of National Poetry Month, hear Mya read her poem aloud:

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Colours

Black, white, brown, yellow.
We could compare colours of our skin,
But why,
When we all have hearts, a skeleton and a brain.
Our insides are the same,
But on the outside,
Others judge us because of what they see,
Like judging the cover of a book before they have read it,
Not even stopping to find their true personality.
Colours should only be compared between crayons.
Blue, red and pink,
They are all different colours,
But they all serve the same purpose,
To colour a picture.
Colours aren’t a bad thing,
They make us unique,
Different from the rest,
So people don’t look the same,
How boring would that be.
But why,
Do people have to judge.
Judging doesn’t serve a purpose when you haven’t even met them yet.
Different skin colours don’t represent how good or bad a person is,
It’s based on the inside.
Now I wish society wasn’t so stereotypical,
If only we could have an x ray machine built in our brains to see that everyone is not that different,
But no, a better solution would be to try to meet a person,
Because you never know,
That person you've been judging your whole life based on skin colour,
Could be the kindest person in the world.