One of Few

My shade is one of many;
I've no reason to atone.
Why accuse me of sin when
it does not reflect your own?

My voice is one of many,
yet its worth remains the same.
Then why must you suppress it,
reforming each word to shame?

My cry is one of many;
I feel pain just as you feel.
Does the color of my eyes
make these tears any less real?

My hope is one of many;
I await disrespect's end.
Am I such a fool to wish
that my life someday amends?

I am one of many, yet
my spirit is one of few.
God made me with a purpose;
Why must you deny it's true?