She asked me if she's beautiful
she doesn't like my answer
maybe she believes she's not
she asked me if she's beautiful
I tell her my thoughts
she asked me if I'm beautiful
she believes my answer
she asked me if she's beautiful
l when little girls don't understand
why her sisters are four shades lighter than her dark skin
she asked me if she's beautiful
she doesn't like my answer
she  goes to little girls that have no feeling or see what she's revealing
she asked me if she's beautiful
I look her in the eye
She asked again
yet again
she doesn't like my answer
she rolls her eyes and stomps away 
then she calls me a total liar
she comes home crying
I ask if she's ok
she rolls her eyes
she doesn't know that she is the most beautiful person
I have ever seen
prettier than any model
when she was born we look down and saw
her sun-kissed face and knew she was perfect
I told her she's an African beauty
but the mean girls told her she's not
her long black hair that runs down her shoulders 
that frame her delicate face 
but everytime I say you're an African beauty
someone says she's not
but I'm proud to say my sister's an African beauty
and no one can top that
my sister is an African beauty
I tell her she needs
No makeup to cover her beautiful face
that she's been blessed with
but sometimes it's hard
not to cry
when my sister asked me
Jojo Am I beautiful?
but I know the cycle very well that no matter what I do
no matter what I tell her she won't believe that
she's an African beauty\