Sun to the gun
Daughter to tears you consciously let run
Down my face
Leaving a trace
Of centuries of women battering
Your tongue defiles my kind and me
With sharp words of slander
like sepulchral mantras
that trap us under
like suffocating black skins
mutating beneath thick layers of foundation
suppressing our pigmentation
with the expectation
of your approval
instead of your brutal
fist defacing me
making my womanhood the worst form of slavery
imposed on human species.
Before you crush me into pieces
Where I draw the line.
No longer will I
Be that girl who walked streets
face covered with thick layers
Of foundation and mascara
To cover patches where you scared her.
A piece of trash
is what you made me feel I was worth.
Making me hate from childbirth,
my looks to my base
Before mirrors trying to erase
The black of me
Just look fair enough for you.
But this time I’m through
For long I tried to understand you boo.
But you kept your boot up in my face
Stamping your authority
Over me and my body
Now I’m tired of trying to understand
Now I over-stand
with my walking shoes up in hand
as I am moving on,
Not because I am not strong
I am too strong to stay
nd endure this for yet another day.
Done with fighting you,
I’m strapping on my walking shoes
And finally leaving you
By Mercy Dhliwayo