Melanin with beards bowing to the white stressed hair,
I wink to their rare glare,
I am a proud soul with a hard role,
Every mission I am embarking on,
Are for generations that have goals.
The stars that twinkle amidst the sky has a throne,
I need not rush, space is for the young and also for the old,
I have no competition,
I am with my gold, silver, and bronze.
I rock my Afro at any moment but never stare at me like an afterglow,
Forget about that tuxedo and my tie that is a bow,
Anytime I am being called, they whistled with round lips
And cheek enclosed before they say hello.
Blood runs through my veins,
I have to eat before I can be strong,
Is it my color that is deceptive? I guess something is wrong,
I am always pitied because my achievement Is being regarded as tough.
If I will start from the genesis, it can never be from the wilderness,
I am the talk of the town but those stories are lifeless,
If the air entering my nostrils are countless then I am not hopeless.
HIV, kwashiorkor, Syphilis, Malaria, and cough are mention alongside me,
Must they roam through Rome before they know the chronicles of the Romans?
My day and night are drenched in sweat hence my tears roll in idioms and proverbs.
A living pigment that will create a society for a better universe,
Revolving the unusual sphere in generating a strong genotype,
If only my outcry can be looked upon, we, therefore, can stop this genocide.
More From The Writer: THE LOST IDENTITY
Written by Kunmi Akin’s
akinkunmijoshua@gmail.com