I Can Feel this Thing (Poem)

I can feel this thing called "wind"

The wind of change is wrapping its arms around me

It's whispering in my ear saying "now, you can blossom"

How did it know that it was buried deep in my soul?

How did it know that I needed it to shine out like morning dawn through mists?

Finally, I can begin the process of sweeping out the mess from my temple

Now, I can breathe; lifting my head from underneath the water

The dark cloud has lifted and I've decided to continue living in spite of hurt.

Happiness is a choice.

I can feel this thing...

Poem: Dark Skin, Kinky Hair

They ask why do I present myself in a manner

But I can't get any tanner

Cause' I was born with this skin

My soul is within and that's what I truly represent

Should I repent because of the way I look?

Should I resent all the scars that my people took?

What I see in the mirror, it can't get any clearer that I have dark skin and kinky hair

Yeah, others may stare

But I'm gorgeous on and underneath

All that matters is what's underneath this sheet; this skin

They lend me their comments on why my hair's not straight

They give me their bate, expecting me to take it

But I'll just break it because they don't know me...

All they could see is my dark skin and kinky hair

But I don't care, even though others may snare

Because my afro puff is my crown and my dark skin a gown that's forever stuck to me

A gift made of shining ebony

I wear it constantly no matter where I go and no matter where I be

Thieves are out to steal my joy

But they can't have it cause' I'm a warrior; African princess, they try to resist this

So they market relaxers; contractors for hiding my identity.

When all I want to be is me; A woman of dark skin and kinky hair

Without it I'm bare

So many cares on making straight roots

But I choose to keep my naps

They're my caps of natural beauty

So tired of us being defined by just our booty

Big breasts and hips

That's what you see on video clips

But what about our hair?

Our blood runs thick like our hair

But what about our hair?

Why should I be ashamed of my black, nappy, kinky hair?

It's a part of who I am; A part of who I be; Deep like the sea

My roots run deep like the sea; My natural hair

Symbolic of nature and metaphorically represents a pureness

Virgin like olive oil

More earthy than underneath the summer grass

So you can ask why I present myself in such a manner

And it's because I was born with this skin

My soul is within and that's what I truly represent

Should I repent or resent who I am as a person--

Because I got dark skin and kinky hair?

Other's may stare and maybe even hate my identity; Because I'm me--

Not an ordinary color of your average rainbow

It's not long and straight down my back but it's a fact that I got kinky hair

It's a part of being black; Afro-American

I...am...Afro-American.