The Raceless

My body is just a shell that I wear,
quite how it looks I have scarcely a care,
for I have no sight to cause me any pain,
or to make me view you with any disdain.

I'm told I have a colour but what does that mean,
perhaps it's like the flavours that I taste in ice cream,
I like the taste of all of those I've ever yet tried,
vanilla, coffee or chocolate, they slide smoothly inside.

I come from some place where we all sound the same,
a Yorkshire accent richManwithpride, always heard at the game.
My friends tell me where the ball flies and excitement grows,
they all share that with me and when fun is shared it really shows.

Mohammed, Ralph and Joseph, Kaldeep and Ahsan,
they all come from Bradford, in boyhood and man,
we'll eat roast beef and Yorkshire puds down at the pub,
or maybe samosas and curries in the working man's club.

I've heard of this race thing, but for me, it's just fine,
some win the 100 metres, others take some more time,
in my world, it is better than for some I've been told,
where race can be seen as bad but just why leaves me cold.

Would the world be much better if no one could see,
and all could be friends with any race just like me,
for I enjoy the company of these diverse people who share
in our melting pot of cultures where so many show they care...

©Rhumour
September 12th 2012

Edited May 17th 2017