Black is the absence of colour
Yet, when they see us, they see colour
Why is something that is not, can be so much?
Why is there so much hate, when love is never enough?
Why does everyone hate black, a few times, even blacks?
More so, they say, it is the absence of.

He was the absence of; when he begged please, I can’t breathe.
He was the absence of; when so defenceless and cuffed.
He was the absence of; on bloody tarmac from his nostril, flat on his face helpless in broad daylight.
He was the absence of; when he called out, I need water, please or something.
He was the absence of; when he cried out for his mama.
He was the absence of; when two knees squeezed hard and suck the life out of him....