Without colour

I was born of a Scottish mum,
And a father who was Irish.
My genes make me a mongrel
Not something for which I'd wish.

A combination of Celtic genes,
Meant that I was pretty fu@#ed!
Ginger tinge and freckled skin,
Oh and how the tanned would laugh and cluck.

But I bet they wish they had eyes like mine,
They're a shade like emerald green.
Forget that it takes recessive genes,
But remember all of what they've seen.

I've travelled extensively over this earth,
I've seen the superiority of the insane.
For every claim of godliness they make.
We end up bleeding just the same.

Time has flowed so fast,
And the world has shrunk of course,
It's time for all us hopeful souls,
To combine behind a cause.

For me there is no black and white,
There is not colour nor any creed.
But the generation of philanthropists,
Who dream of what could be.