Woke Sunday morning
thoughts of a Cinderella in my mind
but there it ends.

Brown,
she was brown,
fair in her un-ironed clothes
but a brown girl.

Songs
Hold on to love,
Give love a try
drifted through my mind
but there it ends.

What a feeling,
for a second
A natural high, walked on by
and happiness forgets.
Sitting and watching,
wide awake in a dream,
the girl rose echoing desire.

'Hopelessly without you,'
she cried
and she was brown,
a rich roast shade
but there it ends.
I am black.

© Carl Levy, 2005 (all rights reserved)