Red, white and blue

Filled with such false pride.

Flag colors and skin colors,

They would have you divide

Black brother from black brother,

And black men from white,

Manipulating colors to instigate a fight.

From the Bloods to the Crips

To the white supremacists,

They are soul-mates of hate

In an ironic twist.

They fail to view life’s colors

In high definition.

They opt to see their lives

In black and white television.

They mistakenly believe

That it’s the colors that bind,

Lost within the duotone

Prisons of their minds.

Perhaps they’ll escapes the chains

That have locked down their brains,

And begin to see other hues

Than just the red, white and blues.


by Phillip McCullough

This poem portrays the profound impact that differences in color can have, as well as speaks to the irony that people who are seemingly on opposite sides of a social spectrum are the same on some level.

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