Being a Black Girl
Everyday I take a gander at myself in the mirror
I curse the day I was born
Being trapped in a body I never chose
Battling with my nappy curls down to my ashy feet
Why are you so black, they asked?
You talk like an African, they said
You will wind up as another person’s better half with no future and aspirations, I was told
I lost all hopes
I gave into my darker side
I believed the words of negativity
Decided to build a world of mine
Washed away the color of my skin
Which is referred to as dirt
Now I am clean
Now I am white
But nothing has changed
Despite of everything I still sound like an African
I take a glimpse at the mirror
And my crown is about to fall
So I take it off
I wished I never washed the color of my skin
My African mother said to me “never put your crown down, put it back on and be the queen that you are”
I put it back on and I look like a queen
But I was worried about my ashy and she said “those ashy feet are what built this land”
Now when I look at myself in the mirror
I bless the day I was born
Born into this beautiful black body
That glows under the sun
The fluffiness of my natural curls is to be envied
Now I can hope for a better future
Where black women can dream and fulfill their aspirations and empower each other
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