I Knew a Black Man
by J. Wesley Hall

    I knew a black man once.
    He stood laughing
    darker than night,
    invisible in the absence of light,
    seeing only the comic in our gross misperceptions.
    "What a collection of brown fools," said he
    at his recognition of our folly
    in the foolhardy race to find superiority in tone.

    I knew a white man once.
    He mourned his lack of hue
    shining brightly,
    revealing every blemish,
    not discerning the differences in shades of brown.
    He knew only envy for the color of those
    who had any at all to be called by.
    The only colors he saw were with and without.






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