My skin colour
Opposes yours by motionless frown
In black and white movies
Where I’m always put at the back
Seen and not heard
My skin colour
Exposed me as an outsider
Like a foreigner in a new country
With its culture that refuses to understand
Why I behave the way I am
My skin colour
Exposed me to prejudice
To the fault of my own
Only to the fault of toxic minds
I cannot control
My skin colour
Tied me to both cultures
Fighting for acceptance from both worlds
Only to be rejected by both of them
Leaving me sucked
Inside a bewildered vacuum
My skin colour
Made me resent my reflection
A reflection that resents me back
Tattooed in horrible words
Appeared in unconscious wounds
Leaving me exposed to foreign pain
I struggle to anesthetise
My skin colour
Is what I look in the mirror everyday
To my reflection that bombards me questions
I’m too scared to answer
Only for the answers to be thrown back at me
Like a boomerang knocking me to the conscious world
“Who are you?” Interrogated by a rhetorical question
Phil the Writer's Block 