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.