Along the lines of truth

And they keep telling me: my Black is beautiful.

As though this new revelation should surprise me.

Shock me, into

appreciating my existence, and to be grateful for my borrowed space.

and time.

How do they know I do not bow to my temple of blackness daily?

and pay homage often to the struggles whitened out in history texts?

They encourage me to accept my wide heavy hips and thick thighs.

They speak in weak tones of expression of inner beauty and imitations of color blindness,

Who are these that dictate what my reflections should sing?

Those who trap my stories in a box

Those who describe me as one thing.

One beautiful Black thing.

Why should i be defined, aligned and understood?

they teach me to know myself, while

always fearing i will recognize the lies behind their borrowed truths

and hand-woven sermons

Having produced an image of me that they find palatable and comfortable,

they clip my wings and demand i soar.

Author: Iwalewa

Well, I've always had a passion for writing. I would describe myself as a feminist, a womanist and a humanist. Poetry is something I've developed a great passion for. Apart from that, I also spend time reading...although this might make me come about sounding like an introvert, I still like to think of myself as an extrovert! I love making new friends and meeting new people. I hope this blog allows others to share and enjoy my work and hopefully share their views and opinions about various issues :)

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