White walls, white floor.
All I see is white when I look around me.
I want to be different, I want to be free.
All this makeup just isn’t for me.

White is who I am.
White is what I am.
Difference is what I seek.

I wear makeup to conceal my insecurities.
But makeup isn’t enough to cover up my sins.
I want to be different, but I’m a blank canvas.
I blend in, I don’t stand out.
The mirror reflects an image that isn’t me.

I’m white, I’m red, I’m black, I’m yellow.
Color doesn’t define me.
Makeup doesn’t make me fake.
My mind just makes mistakes.

Color is just color.
It doesn’t make a person different.
Still, we are held back by color.
Race is still a factor.

Back in reality, color binds us down.
Anything not white is a sin.
That’s how the world views it.

White is the best.
White is the strongest.
White is the color that cleans everything up.
White is pure.

So who am I?
Just a person.
Only a person.
Color doesn’t define who I am.
I define myself.