My Fro, My Crown

My Afro

Stems from

Kings and Queens 

With

Unruly curls 

Just like

Me.

It’s not perfect 

In

Shape or

placement.

Sometimes,

It

Even eats

My bobby pins.

 

Narrow-minds

Tend to pend their

Opinions of my

Curls as

Too frizzy,

Too greasy,

And displeasing.

Well truth is

I’m the wearer of this 

Crown and

It won’t tilt to 

Conformity.

Yeah I get that

I’m not

A majority.

Although, those 

Curious-hands find

Themselves entwined 

In my curls

Wondering...

About the

Volume,

The products,

And the effort

That go into managing 

This

Black

Beauty.

Well it’s a patient duty

That

Take many hours 

Of detangling,

Dreading,

And face-palming.

Not to mention,

When you add 

Tender-headness 

Into the mix

it’s 

A real cringe. 

 

But I’m in love

With my natural being

And wouldn’t 

Change it to 

Become 

someone

Else’s 

Custom twin.

This poem is about: 
Me

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