How well I remember Kennedy school,
Winter's blast was formidable,
that bone chilling Northeasterly wind!
Snow pilled high and very bright,
I was called a sagittarian,
being a December child by birth.
My friends hair was kinky like mine,
soft to touch like lanbs wool.
Our skin multi-colored , some tan, auburn,
dark brown, and others purple black.
Glistening like opal smoothe as China silk,
embroidered with the rock of Gibralter!
At five years old colors are beautiful,
empowered by love's innocence!
Some kids hair kissed golden by the sun,
in strands like a ball of thread dangling.
And their skin milky white yet pale,
those bluish green eyes like lake Michigan,
or Naragansett Bay in New England.
We only become color conscience, when
we are educated intellectual or are we ?
Remembering, it's the hearts content,
submerging, drowning, color and pigment,
and now people of the world can grow