Green, Orange, Purple, Blue, Changing faces old and new. Lashed, beaten, whipped and chained, 'til scarcely any breath remained. Our outside is but a mere vessel, a home in which our souls nestle. For shame upon the judging eyes, that light a spark from slavery cries. And with all the power white contains, should be matched equally with their hearts and brains. For colour brings many shades, and heartless souls are like open blades.