My skin looks like Midnight
Like my ancestors running through cotton fields to find freedom
The dark, rough, callus of my hands
break and broke shackles
Are you not amazed by my glow?
How it dances barefoot on gravel roads
They debate my beauty
Like there ain’t something magic within the way I blend in with the darkness
and shine through the light
My people seem to hate me more than others do
Like this pigment ain’t connected to their birth right to
be not ashamed of who you are
What a shame
You shame me because I look like your mother, and her mother,
and her mother on your native fathers’ side
They say “Girl you look like black”
Like mistake
Like I prefer not to date women of ash skin
It aint worth the smoke
Girls with melanin like yours are only good for soaking up the sun
But I bare no apologies on my flesh
I allow my ancestors memories to crave their way inside my bones
and out pour in the shades of dark brown
I wear my crown
Be it made of gold or thrones of flesh
Stripping from the Addy name linked to me by my previous owner
Marching into the fabrics of Ade
Do you hear the rhythm of my people?
Embracing our heritage
Rebelling within the winds of royalty
Rejecting the myth that I was born for you toil
It bothers you when they fancy the black doll in the back
Her Kinky hair with rags to match
I am a walking independence
A sitting legacy of African roots
Rooted within my pride so I dare not to hide…..
The Beauty of My skin