I am
This Black Woman:
Bold. Blunt…
…
Burnt.
Scarred by the ones I married,
Scorned by the ones I carried,
Indispensable to them all.
Let it be known that in their lives,
I did my part.
I bruised my hands,
Broke my back,
Shut my mouth
And spent every other body part
To make sure that in every way,
They didn’t lack.
But yet,
They’ve called me names.
Compared me to flames.
They say I am a “good servant but a terrible master”.
What I think?
I think I am the sightliest masterpiece
Heaven could muster.
Sharp minded,
Curved in all the right places.
Proud of my many faces,
My many phases,
The many layers you have to peel back,
To touch my heart.
I am so many other things.
I am the magical fabric woven by God himself, for drying tears.
I am the light in all those dark, struggle years.
I am resilient to the core,
I am all of this and more.
I am the prod that ushers you
Into a world of endless possibility.
I am alleged fragility,
I am stark lucidity,
But most importantly
I am part divinity.
So let them dare argue about my rightful place!
Let them pontificate about my age or my race,
Some things will not change!
Like the fact that
I am incubator,
and I am giver.
I am replicator
and I am nurturer.
And always,
I am
This Black Woman.
Bold! Blunt! Beautiful!

By Glory Mafor