Under the Sun

Dear Mom,

Was it rough as a kid?

Did the idea of beauty scare you as much as life did?

Straight hair, small lips, pale skin,

Not the definition of our kin.

Growing up in a space,

Where you weren’t considered a citizen?

Waiting for change,

And yet it felt like you were displaced?

Oh mom, you may not know it,

But in my eyes you are the epitome of creation,

Chocolate skin, curly kinks, big lips,

You invoke a light that shines across the nation.

So when you think of your childhood,

Always remember, no one could imagine

How far along you have come

Being the best mom under the sun.