Somewhere over the rainbow,
Way up high,
Blue birds fly.

It used to mean bad followed by good,
That I could get through whatever,
The rainbow,
Beautiful and full of color,
A bridge to a better place,
A portal,
To another dimension,
Where at the end of the day,
Nothing matters.

I used to see,
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet,
But now,
That rainbow is something else,
Now that same beauty,
That same illusion,
Is transformed,
Now all I see is,
Pale, pink, tan, brown, and black,
No longer a trick of the eye,
Caused by light against water,
But today it is an illusion,
Made by the pigment of the skin.

Race was our worst invention,
The disease that will eventually kill us all.

It is time to step out,
Open up,
Because when the day is done,
Somewhere over the rainbow,
That man with dark skin,
Is a person too.