Upon the shore, where waves kiss the land, Voices rise, echoing stories of pain.

People of color, resilient as ancient oaks, Native Americans, guardians of ancestral smoke, Pacific Islanders, saltwater in their veins, Shame and oppression, their shared chains.

Ignorance like a tempest, blinds the eyes, Anger roars, seeking justice skies. Yet beneath the tumult, a quiet healing tide, Acceptance blooms, a fragile hope to confide.

In the sand of struggle , footprints remain, each grain a testament of resilience gained colorism whispers secrets in the breeze, judging hues dividing hearts with ease

And texturism, oh how it weaves its thread, Praising only curls, leaving others misled. But on this shore, we gather strength anew, To rewrite narratives, to redefine what’s true

For the ocean knows prejudice or scorn, It embraces all, from dusk till dawn. And so shall we, standing hand in hand, Against racism’s tide, on this sacred land.