The colorlessness of man will win; white,
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black, yellow, or red makes no difference
in the life-and-death crush of existence
that shocks, rocks its might; but is wrong, not right!
Invisible, like stealth it comes like night
and day with power, like a deliverance
about to break in two Intolerance,
our racism's ugly bite and Ignorance's height.
It looks right, has the slight appearance of
sheer and soft light splashed cool and wet like dew,
like grace distilled then spliced afresh with love,
vision, spirit and clear sight in hearts anew;
white or black, red or yellow, colors move
as one when colors melt into one hue.
"To have the soul of a poet is to feel with the mind, and to think with the heart."