The Me that God hath made.
Today, society had ripped apart my soul,
The very essence that made me whole.
Out of courtesy they say, that it’s not me
Not that it matters, I believe.
A job I needed, with experience fair,
On the phone they accepted, my face wasn’t there.
The interview went poorly, I knew from the start,
My eyes she didn’t meet, that was the best part.
She said I did okay; she’d call the next day,
I waited for a month, a fool I was made.
I took it most calmly, like every other time,
It hurts less and less, as the days go by.
One day I fell in love with someone from Rome
And that…just by chatting on the phone,
He proposed to me after a year or about,
And sent me roses, with a singing clown.
My future I thought was definitely set,
His pictures he sent, I thought were just perfect.
My fate it was, just to be content,
Until one rainy day, my picture I sent.
“I’m busy he’d say, please don’t call me”
I’ll call you soon, when I am free.
Two months had past, my love to collide,
No calls no emails, or flowers arrived.
Society had said, I’m not good enough,
They mentioned something, bout not being pretty and stuff.
My face is not perfect, no green eyes or blue,
Does it give them the right to be so cruel?
Why do they judge me, coz my skin’s not fair?
Why does it matter that I have dark hair?
Does the sun rise in the east, just for you?
With stars that shine in the sky, in shades of blue?
Today I prayed and asked God why,
When He created His people, He just passed me by.
“Pass you by I did not”said He,
I took time and molded you, beautiful, can’t you see?
‘Your Heart I shaped, and covered in gold,”
You’re Soul I filled with spirit, that overflows,”
“On your Head I placed, a crown of a hundred stars,”
Only real people will see, the beauty from afar.”
A beautiful creature with love so rare,
Humble and compassionate, like a shiny glare.
My beauty’s within, you’ll see if you try,
It’s made especially for me, by God The Most High.
Copyright © Riah Hari | Year Posted 2007