In shadows deep and whispers loud,
The color lines are drawn, profound.
A world that should be free of chains,
Yet bound by hate, by fear, by pains.

The hues of skin, a canvas wide,
Should celebrate, not tear, divide.
But whispers turn to roars of blame,
And hearts are scorched in silent shame.

A child’s laughter, pure and bright,
Shouldn’t dim by fear at night.
For dreams are lost and hopes are torn,
In a world where love is worn.

Tear down the walls, the chains unseen,
Let hearts unite in colors’ gleam.
For in our hands, the power lies,
To end the hate, to rise, to rise.