What they said was dark skin

And a kinky lick of hair
A face in stark contrast amongst the others, not fair, not fair
A Child’s Tears, hidden out of sight, a locked door, and a lifetime plight

Look in the mirror, you bright little girl, where did you come from?
A backhanded compliment, a harried mistake, but the fuck does it matter, after you already said? Dark, dark, dark from your father they said
But to look in the mirror, sure I was mislead
Different, beautiful, a consistent battle, a win-win, a push and pull of a beauty standard
But what does it matter? Does it matter? When besides the fact, pumped with fear, images of beauty remain immaculately clear

Told all you want by sisters and brothers, friends and cousins, my mother, my mother
The color of skin: melanin.
To look in the mirror and just stare, because your own beauty standard, you’re not there, not there