Black and white (nothing ever is)

You may never see my face,
But you may know that I am vocal.
My words can be twisted and turned at will,
And you may find me colloquial.

Perhaps not an accent you will recognise,
For I've travelled far you see.
The things that I've done and witnessed,
Provide the things that make me ME!

A simple man born unto simple things.
Born without pride and without grace.
Paint me in what colours you want,
But I will always know my place.

You can take your argument of privilege,
And you can try to bend the facts.
Demand of me to take a knee?
Now that just makes me laugh.

My knee bent for Queen and country,
And my opinions I've kept mostly quiet.
But I will not bow like a slaughterd cow
For those who choose to riot!

Privilege does not have a colour,
It does not have any creed.
It is worn by those who abuse all,
Despite wherever that may be.

Rain in your anger and distrust,
Because that is something that you can.
Don't paint everyone in your colours
Instead just paint the man.