Why should I have to prove myself?
Must it be the silk of my skin that defines me
Must it be the way that my locks tumble down the curves of my hips
And all our lives we are measured by our grades
By the mind, we must carry A’s
But by the bust of a woman, must it be so wrong to carry one?
Every day we are unfairly dignified by the unchanging destiny of our physiques
And every day this creature known as woman submits to this qualification
Either we win or we don’t
But may I ask why this is the case?
Why can’t the ebony creature of the night prowl with her untamed mane
Every kink and twist of her tresses reminds us of her wild origins
Oh but she hides this in fear
Every morning she straightens her hair in hopes to carry traits like those of her porcelain sister
And the fine white china succumbs to the thought that her curves define her
She hopes in finding the raving attention of a man, only if she can just…..
Change the extremities of her back
Only if she arched just right here and rounded just right there
The truth is hidden from such striking creatures
Why must we succumb, when in pride we can strut with what we have
Why must we submit to the criteria when instead…….
We can ordain ourselves with the awe-strucking magnificence that we pertain
Why not compliment the features that we have in honor, pride, grace, and nobility?
But I no longer question myself, for I stand in my truth
But I ask you? Shall you stand in truth great creature?