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Without Color
I hear the word black, I hear the word white, But the words are empty To a man without sight. A hand Is a hand, And a man Is a man, Hearts can ache Beneath the color of the skin, All men have a soul, Without color, within.
Poem copyrighted © 2004 by Lydia Warner Miller Web site copyrighted © 2012 by Lydia Warner Miller Cell: 530-391-5056 Home: 530-644-5594 email: brokenbadge8@yahoo.com lydia-miller.artistwebsites.com Fine Art America.com search Lydia Miller 2379 Indian Wells Road Placerville, CA 95667 |
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