The many funerals of a black girl

How many funerals of ones self can someone have before there is nothing left Don't answer It's rhetorical anyway Funeral number 1 A piece of her hair A symbol of when they would stop and stare At her hair When they would make her life a living nightmare Until she became too aware Until It became too much to bear Until she silenced her hair What once was full of life Was now minimised I wish she had realised that without her halo She would no longer glow But then again hair can grow Maybe it's a metaphor for ones worth Funeral 2 Her laugh Too loud they said To black they said To much they said Too much space she took she thought Her happiness too much Too Much Now every room haunted by the ghost of her laugh Her joy Her presence Her happiness No room was worth going in anymore Too empty Too small What once was loud Was now silent I guess laughter is the best medicine I guess the medicine stopped working Funeral 3 Her carved skin She was just given it She didn't ask for it So why do they hate her for it They told her bleach it Then she would be pretty She did Now she's a monster She can never win What once was golden Was now broken I guess what glitters is not always gold Or Maybe it is, I guess it was a lie they told So I ask again This time you can answer How many funerals of ones self can someone have before there is nothing left ?