I don't see color
they say but I do,
we are no stewpot
where everything simmers
to a bland monotone
as if a melting pot is a goal
not an impossibility--
for every us there is a them
I don't see color
he says but I do,
my strawberry and cream
not the blackberry jam
usually his taste
as if women are on the menu
with dessert or sweet things--
and maybe we are
I don't see color
he says but I do,
as you are told the best way
to tell police to stop killing you
is quietly, peacefully
but not on national television
you are told your anger
is terrifying, uncontrollable
you are told to kiss the boots
on your necks
I don't see color
she says but I do,
blood staining pavement
first red then old penny brown
stinking of iron
as if old men can't be pushed--
only stumble on their own
About Susan L Daniels
I am a firm believer that politics are personal, that faith is expressed through action, and that life is something that must be loved and lived authentically--or why bother with any of it?
Susan Daniels Poetry 
We all see colors, to some extent, it’s just, that we don’t, admit it, to, ourselves…
Exactly. Those that claim not to see fooling themselves and negating part of other people ‘s life experiences.
All I see these days is pain and hate… I think the future will look back on us and wonder what the hell our problem was. They’ll laugh at us, and after that’s done, pity us. I think we have it coming. Color… how is it that in this day and age a thing like that divides us so much? It makes no sense.
It makes sense at all ,Trent.
Nice piece Susan!
Thank you!