by Jabari Butler
His heart, cold like a winter day
My heart, warm like fresh cookies out of the oven
His eyes, dark black like his soul
My eyes, dark brown, the color of the dirt my ancestors used to create a path for me
But yet we are the same
That time on the street when you called me his name
What was it that made you think we were the same
Was it just the color
Or like every single person says, was it something other
Did we share strides and both look the same in the way we walked
Or was I talking strange, and it was the way we talked
My chest out and head held high
His head so low because he was high
My short curled hair dark as coal
His hair twisted up like his soul
But yet we are the same
What was it that made you call me by his name
Was it just the color
Or are we actually alike
Or was it that our skin was as black as the night
Did we act in a way
When we walked did we both do the black man sway
Or maybe it was just because both of our names started with J
His hat to the side
My hat faced forward the direction of my life
But yet we are the same
What was it that made you call me by his name
Was it just the color
*2014 Colorism Poetry Contest Division 1 Winner