Poetic State Of Mind

For Colored Girls…

The system is a bitch,
Oh wait…my bad, the system is responsible
for this legit job that I’m supposed to
be content with,

Content I may be, but yet I don’t know
about my ladies,
Crazy, living shady in a ostracized institution
bitten by stereotypical hounds, infected with
judgmental rabies,

Miss Red is beautiful, a work of art,
A dime piece, determined to reach heights
closer to heaven,
She’s a victim, her name Selorm,
Ridden off her right to passage,
Her identity,
She remains an anonymity in this stereotypical

She puts in her two cents,
Too centered bosses giving her cruel sentences,
Her pain is her penicillin to keep her anger disciplined,

Lady Green,
Lady in green, go getter,
Miss if you knew better you’d do better,
Skin beautiful like cedar
Plus she goes by the name of Gretta,

Always second favorite in preference,
Treated as leather,
Letters to the president,
Treated as spam to his mental processor,

She seeks greatness,
She’s vowed to win hearts over,
But what is there to win,
When your efforts and hard work
are undermined by colorblind colleagues
and neighbors who seek to alienate
themselves from you moreover,

She’s alone, but she swears she won’t
be prone to failure and denied of her
glory throne,

Blue madam,
Excuse madam, I love your tan,
Comment of an ignorant man,
Who sees a woman in pain,
Insecure about her body and her
community stance,

She’s a product of humility,
Soft but proclaims her dignity in high
Maureen is an epitome of a queen,
Motherly, a Mother Theresa in the flesh,
Her righteous self reigns supreme,

However she’s an object of discrimination,
Her tone is seen as discoloration,
She’s patient, but within those walls of
strength she’s built,
stereotypical cracks shake her foundations,

As God is her witness, she’ll fight till her
purpose becomes her vindication,

These are my sisters,
My mothers daughters,
Judged by what is termed color disorder,
Order of a race,
Fighting to stake a name in their respective
allocated space,
But faced with indelible stains of people
who feel that coexistence can’t be found
between them and their place,

I weep every now and then,
So color has become the new reason
for Tommy Hilfiger to distinguish between
who and who is allowed to rock his polo
tops or denim?

I’m not trying to hear that,
Charle, I speak bl3 chaw make I relax,
Chillax, obroni mmbu bibini a,
yen so yebu no kwasia,

Cause we were all born different,
But bestowed with one vision,
One mission,
Whether you’re brown, light or Asian,
There’s no prohibition for this coalition,

So like my sisters we’ll seek to be all
that we can be,
We’ll not kiss the feet of these many
men that subject us to scrutiny under
our complexion,

Can’t change what is there,
For we’d rather walk bare than
Bear these clothes whose chroma have
become our agnomen..



4 thoughts on “For Colored Girls…

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