A Black Girl’s Purity
My melanated mother pushed me out her womb with love.
Beautifully and wonderfully crafted by the man above.
Birthed in a world that exhibited so much hate.
My blackness my flesh my skin that took so much time to create.
A little black girl so majestic and pure.
Her beauty standards not good enough for the same respect and passion a little white girl endured.
Skips down the block with her goldy lock curls.
So much admiration she received from the world.
Ruby Bridges walked with her books and her three pigtails down to the school.
Taunts, Hatred & Racist slurs carried along all because she deserved the same tools.
Pecola from the bluest eye a pained little black girl.
Was never seen as beautiful enough.
Hated by her own family when all she needed was some love.
Blonde hair and blue eyed something she’d never be.
America “ their “ beautiful is all anyone could see.
In the eye of the beholder her beauty remained.
A beauty of my black ancestors who they just whipped and chained.
Afraid of the strength and resilience we carried on our backs.
The same little black girls you see.
Yes we are products of that.
A corrupted nation who only sees beauty as white.
Instilled in our little minds bullshit and lies.
To believe a black woman is appreciated enough in this day and time.
You taught us to hate our skin and our coils and curls.
To all my young black girls.
Your purity and serenity and magic exist within you see.
Nothing can ever replace a black girls purity.