The material of us,
either of gold,
bronze,
ebony,
or ivory,
are gifted.

Birthed with life,
we are bestowed our only lens into actuality.
We see,
think,
talk,
smell,
feel…

This is our only life,
our only chance to live this real dream.
With expiration making it just.

All of man is that of the rarest gemstone,
invaluable.

But we see fit to pass judgement,
presenting oneself with the cursed gifted of arrogance.
The illusion of superiority,
presented in many forms but of the same linearity.

Empires erected,
wars fought,
genocide committed,
injustice practiced,
and men broken,
for the sake of ignorance.

But we,
we!
The gems-the diamonds,
the ebony,
the ivory,
the gold,
the bronze.

We kill,
in fear of our material.
Our diversity betters us,
but also divides as we fear the new.

Though what we fail to realize,
is that our material was cut of the same rock.