‘Black and British’? A poem by Dayna Francis

‘Black and British’ should not be a thing,
It should be you, me, him, her, them and they,
But people look to your colour and country for your story,
And assume they realise your inner glory.

It is why some people call me the other black girl’s name,
I shake my head and correct them nicely but they do not learn that way…a shame…

Shame on them, or shame on me?
They do not understand, yet I use the same strategy?
Perhaps it is on me to change the way,
I treat those that do not treat me the same?

‘Black and British’ should not be a thing,
It should be you, me, him, her, them and they,
But people look to your colour and country for your story,
And assume they realise your inner glory.

I am learning we are all the same when we are ill,
Yet they do not treat us with the same pill?
Doctors say it is because they have not seen enough representation,
In their reading of literature beyond one’s imagination,
The health of a black life is still incomprehensible?
The physical and mental implications of this are immeasurable…

What can one do to change the tone?
I am fed up of us suffering in silence, alone,
In our lonely plight for equality,
After centuries of ancestors lost in the name of finding peace…

‘Black and British’ should not be a thing,
It should be you, me, him, her, them and they,
But people look to your colour and country for your story,
And assume they realise your inner glory.

Because the different views we put on others
Can actually form these races and cultures,
And as beautiful as embracing all of that can be,
It takes us away from you being you and me being me.

We found beauty in division- how do we fix that?
It is a challenge, there is no hiding from that fact,

All I know is it will take the minds of those in charge,
To allow our rigid systems to open their arms.