Proud Roots
Sometimes, when I dream,
I wake up as nothing short of
A Proud African Woman.
But, I’ve always been short.
And I can’t paint my skin…
Sometimes, when I dream,
I wake up as nothing short of
A Proud African Woman.
But, I’ve always been short.
And I can’t paint my skin…
…we were all told not to speak of it.
But in the night, these memories haunt, lips sealed, we see each other different.
…the feminists reading this, may be wondering why I would be posting on such a strange topic. Wondering why the objectification of men, should even come up, when the objectification of women is so rampant, so bill board loud.
It’s a shame, your light is shadowed over by, whispered domestic war stories, with more guts than glory. When your fellow dads Abandoned their homes for younger love stories. Its sad, that those who rise to the occasion of single parenthood, Will hear more blame for absent counterparts, Than compliment for their part. From playgrounds,to…
Read More “Time To Tell -An Ode To The Amazing Fathers Of This Wold.” »