The colour of my skin

As a baby we are all born different,
Different skin, different hair, different eyes, different size,
But no child or baby sees colour as being different,
Time goes by and as we get older people see us for what we look like and not what we are,
My skin is coloured, not white but then again not black,
The inheritance runs strong through my blood, yet I am not indigenous nor come from the land I was born on.
My skin is my culture and my culture is my blood and family,
In the end we are all built different with many ranges of colour and many stories that will be passed down.