Sounds like a product someone is selling

I constantly hear peopling posting it, saying it, yelling.

It is my skin,

The one I was born in

I have always had it but now it being the norm thing

To decree and discuss

Because before it was made to be such a fuss

When me and my skin loved each other

But others didn’t love us.

My skin is not a product for you

But a product of me.

You cannot wear it share it or buy it now that people feel like it’s popular

You did not defend me when I was teased

For having skin darker than trees

But now that it is the topic of discussion

To the hill you have begun rushing

To the top of towns, yelling over the hustle and bustle

That black is beautiful, no discussion

But what about when it wasn’t considered cute or even pretty

She came out chocolate such a pity

Now she’s a tar baby, no honey I’m a star baby.

I rocked this skin when its wasn’t cool

And I appreciate your supportive gestures but I’m no fool

My melanin is not a tool

You cannot turn it and make it seem good           

Because it was always precious to me.

So if or when this phase ends

I hope my daughters never forget

That although our skin resembles caramel and chocolate

There will always be people who hate it

But I am proud to say that

They will be raised in a way that

It will praised for all of my days

Knowing God above made me this way



A word used to describe the label that I am in

But I am glad to be here

Whether happy or sad

Whether rain or the clouds are clear




This poem is about: 
My community
Our world


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