My skin is dark As eyes without hope As the lack of love Within this world My skin is full of marks But it hurts more in the inside I have scars in my soul, Why feel guilty of my luck? I don’t envy the freedom of those Who have a skin of sun I didn’t choose My skin, my language, or my face, I didn't choose Being hunted by my race But here I am, Being named, being believed in a certain way But here I am, Fount guilty of others' sins I am proudly carrying my burden My dark skin is my perpetual treasure Beautiful like the universe and its wonders Being black is my cursed pleasure My blackness is as powerful as thunder This is my darkness' manifesto Screaming loudly its painful joy I won't conceal what clad my soul My skin is dark Like the center of our eyes My heart cries, for you, it cries My darkness can't be silenced I wear my skin like a divine garment I’m not privileged, but I know that Our blood is red Without social poison We all could be the same.
This is one of my first poems. The idea was born when I came to the United States from the Dominican Republic and gained a new perspective of my blackness thanks to the cultural knowledge I acquired here. In my home country, the culture and the way in which race-related topics are approached is different. When I learned some of the atrocities committed against Indigenous people, Black people, and other groups, which have stained with innocent blood the worn pages of the history of this country, I was furious and I still am. The foundation of this freedom is oppression. Utilitarianism at its finest. And this poem shows my grief and my burning desire to continue the long march towards true freedom.
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