"Color," A Poetry Post

My sister,
do you still
dream in color?

When we was kids,
you had all these
ideas about
what you wanted to be and do.

One time you
said you was gone
open up your own
beauty shop,
but you aint do much to
get yourself into
beauty school.

One time you said you was gone
get back into
dancin like you used to do,
but you dont play no
music.

Seem like you just doin
whateva it is minimum
you feel you got to
do.

Seem like you just
livin out grayness....

Look like your
shine done became a
muffled glow out here
in these streets.

We all gotta work and work,
my sister,
but God aint just
signed you over
outta the rainbow
like that.

You aint got no right to
die on your feet,
pretending to be breathing.

You is entitled
to your yellows.

You is entitled
to your reds.

You is entitled
to your color.

-T. D. James-Moss