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Skin

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The only difference is our skin. Black, white, mulatto, olive.
Skin is our surface, but not who we are entirely.
Then why does it divide us, separate us entirely?

Why does the colour of skin blind us? Yet it is the only thing we see.
Why does the colour of skin cause us to bleed our brothers and sisters?
Our blood. It is all the same colour isn’t it?
Then why do we open a healing wound and let it run a river of red?
Are we afraid of our likenesses, so afraid we will hide behind a feeble difference?

The only difference is our skin. We may be black, white, mulatto, or olive.
Skin is our surface, but not who we are entirely.
Then why does it divide us, separate us entirely?





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