At sunrise, we see black.
At sunset, we see black.
Everyday is black.
Our dreams are black.
Our visions are black.
We dwell in isolation
Hold our hands
Lest we fall into a ditch.
We see not, but see more with our eyes closed.
Our hearts bleed
We lament in black anguish
And unto our Creator we cry aloud.
For how long shall we be objects of sympathy and ridicule?
When shall we be recognised as part of the society?
And when shall we see the light of the day?
For the miracle of the Man
At the beautiful gate we crave.
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.