My skin shines like crimson
My eyes browned and bold
My hair locked and seasoned
My story had never been told
Her eyes dance as Chameleons
Her smile a beautiful ode
Her laugh is contagious even at distance
But her story had never been told
My skin is a Scarlet letter
Oh the sorrow this is to hold
Her skin brings her much privilege
But yet her story had never been told
Though black and white mix to grey
And a piece of paper does indeed fold
How can we be one as equal
If a story is never told.