Poezja

Black, we sit in you when its too hot.
We wear you in the winter to catch heat.
Returning negativity to its source is your talent.
We need you to hide our sins.

Black, we fear you as children.
We fear your connotations.
You’ve been permanently placed in death,
And condemned by man.

Yet, you are used in decorations.
Black skulls on key-chains, black stools.
Our cars have you to show class.
We find you in hair, oh Black, beautiful.

But you are not innocent.
Nor shall you ever be.
Condemned by religion as sin,
And forced to contain our creatures.

We use you.
We abuse you.
And you’ll always be needed.