Black is the color of my small brother’s brain, the gray streaks in my mom’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled face…is a way of claiming the reality that hurts with a laugh, a way of capping on (shutting up) anyone. Finding even chatting bout persons’s mammas and these kinds of.T

Black is the color of my minor brother’s brain, the gray streaks in my mother’s hair. Black is the colour of my yellow cousin’s smile, the scards on my neighbor’s wrinkled facial area…As it is possible to see, each individual line leads up for the cap, the ultimate just one. And the final statement is based on a truth that all Blacks know