Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge!


The skin I'm in has many, many regrets, and sometimes it gets a bit torn.
    The skin I'm in has never been accepted, just betrayed, oppressed and scorned.
The skin I'm in is often too tight, causing me much difficulty when I breathe.
    The skin I'm in has been spat on and kicked, and then whip lashed until it bleeds.

The skin I'm in was past down from my father; an inheritance that has brought only pain.
    The skin I'm in is tattered from worry; its glow has been darkened by endless rain.
The skin I'm in is often itchy, and I have to scratch my way to temporary contentment.
    The skin I'm in has formed perpetual layers that reflex a constant hue of resentment.

The skin I'm in needs just to be loved, and to be held tight by someone that cares.
    The skin I'm in deserves something true; that heal all the scars it bares.
The skin I'm in is all that I have, and I'll continue to do all I possibly can.
    The skin I'm in I still wear with pride, presenting to the world a true BLACK MAN.

Written by John A. Smith


Mr. Africa Poetry Lounge