Half my blood runs Brown. Through Middle Eastern
Mountain streams, it sweeps across the ocean
Like the summer breeze that crashes gently
On a foreign shore where white rules the roost.
I’m diluted – Northumbria water
is stored within my veins, and I have the
Eyesight of my mining kin; my voice rolls
Along their intonation, whilst fingers
Made for weaving carpets wrestle with a pen.
I’m a quilt of multiculturalism
A patchwork, if you will, of skin too strong
For the kingdom’s borders; of skin too soft
For provincial life. I’m an enigma -
I serve to confuse; I’m some of what
You are, and some of something new. I am
Neither here, nor there. Some light, some dark.
A partial eclipse.
Mountain streams, it sweeps across the ocean
Like the summer breeze that crashes gently
On a foreign shore where white rules the roost.
I’m diluted – Northumbria water
is stored within my veins, and I have the
Eyesight of my mining kin; my voice rolls
Along their intonation, whilst fingers
Made for weaving carpets wrestle with a pen.
I’m a quilt of multiculturalism
A patchwork, if you will, of skin too strong
For the kingdom’s borders; of skin too soft
For provincial life. I’m an enigma -
I serve to confuse; I’m some of what
You are, and some of something new. I am
Neither here, nor there. Some light, some dark.
A partial eclipse.
