And do not wish to hurt it, by rejection,
And yet, my soul has left my body, on occasion,
And so I am quite open to persuasion,
As to the need to pay too much attention,
To the nature of my flesh, or that of others.
The nature of my flesh or of my brother's,
Is weak and paltry, limited and frail,
And this is true of all men living in this nation,
Or in this world, all men, both dark and pale.
I see that I am like my near relation
And different in specific ways, so am unique,
And yet as part of God's creation
An individual and member of some clique.
And yet such membership does not denote acceptance
Of specific acts that others might describe
As being ones committed by my fellows,
As members, now long dead, but of my tribe.
Because my soul has left my body on occasion,
I know my soul is free to some extent,
I do not seek to find excuse in this evasion,
But try to look instead to what Christ taught, and meant,
And as far as I'm aware he did not mention,
An extra, deep original sin,
Pertaining to the circumstance I'm in
Of being born of earthly parents,
Who happened to have pale pink skin.