My Skin

They say you cover me up
Aren’t you part of me?
Are you just a lifeless flap?
Can I replace you to buy another one?
 
Who painted you the color black?
Why did he see it fit for me to be black?
Not white as the Britons
Or red as the Red Indians
 
When it is very hot, extremely
And I look for the zip to wear you off
I am always left disappointed
To see that I can’t see the zip, as though
The skill to operate you I have no enough
 
When you are pricked by a sharp object
You always pass over the agony to me
Can’t you take the pricking effect?
It was you who received it not me!
 
 
 
© GIDRAF MWANGI