A man of gold, yet poor in soul, Whose heart hath naught to grasp the whole. No love for art, no ear for song, Whose mind recoils from right and wrong. A golden tie, a stiff applause, He sat, bemused, without a cause. The songs of sorrow brushed his coat, He missed the point, he cleared his throat. Beside him, smiles for magazine, Not much was said, not much was seen. The ro...

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Beware, ye lords who preach of holy shame, Who cage the heart with doctrines carved in stone. Love answers not to dogma, law, or name— Its realm is soul, not scripture, nor your throne. No rite can ban what pulses in the skin, No creed can curse the heat that makes us whole. What blasphemy is love, if love is sin? What god would strike the mercy from a soul? Two hearts ignite beyond ...

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This sonnet addresses the irony of calling someone "coloured," highlighting the contrast between black skin, which remains constant, and white skin, which changes with emotional or physical states. This poem reflects on how the colour of one's skin can shift depending on circumstances, challenging the societal labels that define people by their appearance.

When I was born, my skin was dark as...

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Lost among the nameless crowd, A quiet ghost, no cries allowed. Drifting shadows, passing by, No hello, no wondering why. A life unbound, yet bound so tight, A flickering flame in endless night. The world it speaks, but not to me, A dialect I’ll never see. I tried to stand where others meet, But tripped upon my own two feet. Their laughter rang, a foreign sound, A melody I’ve neve...

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