My Hair Grows Brown Not Black

My hair grows brown not black

From flesh to peach

The crayon company dominating our century offered

Very little variety that lied within my reach

Known by neither flesh or peach 

Yet skin color as the kids believed

The lack of diversity that the media preached 

One color to them represented skin color

But what do you call what resides on me

What covers my bones from the cold and the sun's heat?

Although I know the color of my hair

With my crayon kit, I always scribbled it black 

For I'm far from pale 

And since the beauty on my head belongs to me as much as the pigment encasing my being

Both needed to stand out for the eyes who were seeing

As I wanted to highlight the hair that encouraged the stares

And show them the hair that I used to dread

Yet to do so I had to select my colors with care

By choosing black as my choice instead

My hair grows brown not black

But I could never draw myself like that yet recently

When I saw a little girl shading

She had her multicultural crayons awaiting

It reminded me with gradual steps

Some companies do listen

And will acknowledge the palette for skin tones

Lie limitless