Brown Eyed Perspective

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“I stopped to see a weeping willow crying on its pillow.”




~Patsy Cline



When I was born, I was blessed with brown eyes

And the ability to see things differently.

Some may say cursed, some may say besotted

But I say blessed because it’s a blessing to have a perspective unlike any other.

To see a grape and not think of wine but wonder why the stem is not qualified as edible.

Why must we eat the apple but not the beautiful blossom?

Why, Patsy Cline, does the weeping willow weep instead of basking in the beauty around it?

What could possibly be so wrong?

Yes, slavery was evil and cruel and cannot be justified, but would I have ever found God

if I was knee-deep in witchcraft back in Africa?

Yes, segregation was unjust, but the people who transcended it were the ones

who birthed forth stronger generations.

Yes, Martin Luther King was gunned down for no other reason than the shade of his skin and the power of his words, but has his dream not become a reality?

Is there not a memorial in DC honoring the great man he was?

There is no excuse to keep living in the past.

There is no excuse to continue to pantomime a victim.

There is no reason to pass down bitter resentment through the souls of future generations.

Why be so vindictive? Why be so pessimistic?

I may see things differently in a way you may not understand, but one thing is unanimously clear:

Something has got to change. We have got to change.

I won’t ever be stupid enough to wear my heart on my sleeve,

but I’m willing to splash my true colors on my skin

so everyone can see me; can read who I am.

I’m refusing to hide anything anymore. I want it all out in the open.

I challenge the world to finally see this brown eyed black girl completely.

I saw that same weeping willow crying on its pillow, but I did not weep with it.

I simply advised it to shut up.





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