My Own Skin
I looked upon my own skin;
Then I turned my head and I looked at it again.
In my hand I examined the red rose petal,
But, for that red beauty and one color must I forever settle.
GOD created the rose in its many different colors,
To bring beauty and a wonder to the world as man discovers.
The roses and their fragrances are they not all the same,
So, only to one rose and its color must I only love as I exclaim.
If by a rose its thorn in pain my thumb is ever pricked,
Should its color always be thought of hate and held with prejudice?
GOD created the red, the yellow, the white, and even the rare black rose,
To which many had fallen in love with and had written of in a prose.
Once again I looked at my very own skin
And like the roses and their colors; men are just men.
Randy L. McClave