I read a book when I was very young,
It was about a little boy who ran away from home.
He realized how his new friend was not of one color,
She wasn’t just black, but many shades of black.
Black as chocolate, black as night, black at iron,
Her palms were light like tree bark,
Her hair as black as a shadow,
And her skin, he noticed was black as a chocolate chip.
Fourteen different unnamed shades of black,
Made up the one person he knew.
He counted the different shades on his own body,
And he came up with seven different shades of white.
His face was as white as a cloud, his arms as white as snow,
His belly was the whitest of them all, the elbows more pink than anything.
Seven different shades on him and fourteen were on his friend.
Other than color he realized with a start,
What more of a difference was there?
They both had two arms, two legs, two eyes and a nose apiece,
Funny looking hair, twenty digits and belly buttons too.
If they were the same except for the color on their skin,
Wouldn’t they also be the same within?
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