Our scleras ain't all white,
some of us have orbs burning in sizzling tears, so ours are fiery red,
we just squat in a corner and squint in dolor.
Our lips ain't all wet and glossy,
some of us have lips chapped like with a jagged blade,
mumbling words that thump hard and leave fresh bruises,
with a tinge of orange to coat them, and a touch of false smile,
we're good to go.
Our skins ain't all black or white,
some of us are battling with severe jaundice, so ours come in hues of yellow,
yet we garb to shroud it from being stereotyped by the others.
Not all of us have a savoury life,
some of us undergo the savagery of regrets littered on our memory lanes,
yet we walk down the path with fidgety feet so ever-green,
like the laurels from the tropicals.
Not all of us want to be led beside still waters,
some of us just want to lay supine on them and feel the soothing aura they exude,
drown deep down till our heart beats blue.
Not all of us want titles scribbled on accolades,
some of us just want to breathe and be seen with puffed cheeks,
with an indigo blush for the lifetime,
wait patiently till our names are engraved on our sepulchre,
and blush on still, for the tributes paid.
Not all of us are bubbling with confidence,
some of us have been bullied in violence and stripped of our essence,
so we hide in our shells and live as shrinking violet.
We ain't all same,
we are made of colours that tell our stories and present our being distinctly,
we just need that love and light spectra to let each glow in its uniqueness,
just like the rainbow.
Chioma Okere is a Nigerian poet, storyteller and a budding photographer. She seeks to use her writing as a change-making tool to amplify her voice and that of others. Her works have been featured in Upwrite Magazine. She can be reached via her Instagram and Twitter handle: @_theremy.