I wear my hair like a tumbleweed
Society shrieks when they catch sight of me
Free, from their grasp I wish I could
When all lose sight and focus on something that would
Be, not me. A monster, a felon, a wax replica.
Scoliosis twists and bends from roots to ends
Their remedy lacks of medicine
Not chiropractor, no doctor, no medical advisor,
My heritage has been handed to someone believed to be much wiser.
Coffee stained cream, is how they look at me
A beverage not suitable for drinking.
Either not enough coffee or not enough cream,
There’s no such thing as balance or an in between.
Articles in magazines, all tell me that I am queen
A ruler, a champion of all human beings, but what I see
Is a subordinate thing, an illusion of what it means to be the purest seed
That seed has been planted and will never be forgotten
But my seed that I plant grows both cocoa and cotton.
On account of my plea of who I am and what I’ll be
I’ll never conform to a shade that is sweeter to see
For both parties, I plea.
When black and white does not mean monogamy, but an accessory
You torch my hair and take the best of me,
I’ll see to your destiny.
I’ll make you walk the line between the right and the wrong
But who are you to determine which side you’re on?
I grew up knowing that my race was exposure
To people who refuse to look a little closer.
Look closer, you’ll see
But the only thing visible in me
Is that I, myself, am a human being.