They waited for my arrival.
The expected of all visitors,
The visitor with a difference
Who then could think otherwise?
Who then could reject this one?
Innocently I sat, guessing and staring.
With no word to say, no one to talk to,
Not to know who I was; the missing tongue
The pressure to expression pounding,
The desire to contribution increasing,
The need to communication arising,
I acquired the tongue!
No! They gave me the tongue,
No! They taught me the tongue
No! They coloured the tongue
Why then the undesired colour
Whey then the rejection I face
Wherever I sit, the colour of my tongue,
Wherever I work, the colour of my tongue
Whatever I say, the colour of my tongue
Whatever I do, the color of my tongue
I wish they could listen to me,
I wish they could work with me
I wish they could see the ability in me
Not just the colour of my tongue
God, just before conception, you knew me,
Which race, which continent? Which country, which tribe,
Which community, Which social class was I?
Who then can tell them? Who then can help them?
To understand that I love them
That I would have chosen them
That we are all like them
That I neither chose it this way nor that way
That given chance, I could have chosen there way
That we could be one, despite the colour of my tongue