African blood

It is often easy to forget what I am

Media, music, and the white man

All telling me that for what I stand

Has no purpose here.

When I look at myself in the mirror at night

I am almost repulsed with the most unfortuante sight

Of my big hair, nose, eyes, and nose that have no right

Among such a broad face.

I look at magazines and models and women in the streets

To find myself thinking that they have me beat

In this invisible contest where I, the only contestant,

Am always the loser.

I ask my God why he made me so different

Why everytime I cry its always reminiscent

Of the face my parents gave me that is so opposite

Of everything beautiful on this earth.

And while most days are an endless daze

Of me putting myself through the most inhumane haze

To try and fit myself among the beautiful and worthy's ways

But some days it is different.

Some days I realize that I am a product of a proud African queen

And that I am meant to be heard and most definitely seen

My hair is extraordinary bold, stunningly proud, and visciously mean

And my wide nose is spectacular.

The world is mine, no matter how many try to strip me of it

It is not for simple or ignorant minded people to covet

For I am me- strong, beautiful and loved

I am a divine creation from the stars above.

And while it may seem it is impossible that a girl with such a different perspective of the world's scene 

That she could be realizing her worth and incredible beauty at sixteen,

Deep within her, sometimes she is comfortable of knowing she is a queen

And that she most certainly has the bold blood of Africa.


This poem is about: 
My country
Our world
Guide that inspired this poem: 


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