Skin of colour,
Eyes that shame the pendulum's dance.
So they call you that paradox that was never destined to be understood.
Black albino;
Skin the colour of rich brown earth,
Eyes that move to and fro
Like demons on patrol.
They see your colour and wonder if it's paint.
They call you albino;colourless
And they put a black robe on it.
They say the eyes are the window of the soul
And maybe they've seen a dichotomy difficult to understand
Because they've decided to drink the sweet mead of ignorance.
So you smile and let them exist with volatile understanding.
While you exist in a nature that defies natural
Wonderful!
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