Black bodies
Black bodies beautified with cocoa-butter to illuminates the skin
Shining as bright as Bright as the sun, with the power of melanin
Black bodies are a glorious gift unexpected
With coarse hair cuticles which can be threaded, braided, locked, weaved, we’re are versatility reflected
From the deepest brown eyes to the lightest blue eyes, cannot be categorized
Yet society disregard that and we are characterized
Criminalized, demonized, villainized, made out to be born murderous
As if our birth was an atrocity to man-kind
But when I read the Bible, like the Israelites I swear we are the chosen people, I made be delusional, but that’s my framed of mind
For black bodies are God's creation
A black body is a person that does all the work in a group project, but on the day of the presentation, got sick, so end up not getting recognition
For America was built on the forced enslavement and hard labors of black bodies
But historians seem to have amnesia, so we get no honorable mention
We are engulfed with the energy of cheerful fans in a football stadium
But is mistaken for the thunder and lightning of a storm
Yet as Tupac said, we are roses that grew from concrete
From the sorrows of the lynching of our ancestors, our history is not complete
No, it’s only the beginning from a dark tragic past
To a dignified future as bright as the sun's rays shining during a sunrise
No longer accepting your false claims
If the lynching didn’t kill us, your Jim crows laws ricochet off our bodies like bullets, your systematic oppression didn’t stop us, what can stop us?
For we mix emerald, gold, and titanium, strong enough to endure the collection of your hatred
Yet, realizing we are all powerful and fuel with the source of a mighty lion and tigress hybrid
With the power of melanin, we are healers, enable to cure diseases with one dose of our black girl magic
Too afraid of that power, so like cowards, turn my black brothers to ghost in panic
Leaving behind fatherless children in grief, the greatest sin one can commit
For Grief is like being extremely homesick but knowing your home no longer exists
From R.I.P Philando Castille, Justice for Trayvon, don't you see?
They are turning us into only a hashtag
But we are more than a hashtag
We are warriors fighting and winning for our rights to exists
In a world that where ignorance and ridicule persists
Don’t worry though, this was prophesied
For black bodies are God's creation
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