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…
with their husbands names,
hidden under their teeth…
…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.
. The morality of victim is always called into question. I think my story, can easily be summed up as ‘alijipeleka’
In our ideology of morality,
Silence is the right answer.
Bite your tongue, until it
bleeds iron tasting kisses, onto him.
And yet,
We own that beauty,
Much more than
The stars we are under.
We had to make sure you were ok.
We had to cut open to save
You from my uteruses efforts to give you life.
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…
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