My eyes are brown and uneven like a seesaw,
does that make my presence unsightly?
My hair is black and rough like iron wool,
but why do you behave so tightly?

My tongue is foreign and stuttered,
does that categorize me as an illiterate?
My skin is rich as dark chocolate, and oiled so it looks buttered,
Does that make me uncivilized?

But my insides are blooming, and my heart well fed,
I look to the bright side of the sun, which reflects off my forehead.
My smile takes up half the room leaving no space for negativity,
every day I sing, and sing about oh sweet liberty.

All in all my deeds and praise remain uncited,
as my neighbors continue to remain blinded.