My skin is not like caramel
so sweet to look at and light to the core
No mixture of tones
and yellow in MY bones
My skin is not like milk so white
and sensitive to the sun that shines,
then changes its shade in the face of embarassment
This hair not long, silky and smooth
nor my eyes hazel, green or blue
My skin has no red tint to its glow
with ancestors who've seen the Taj Mahal
and prepared the finest curry,
no.
My skin is not like Asia at all
with eyes shaped like almonds
and famous straight hair
My skin has a recipe all of its own,
a mixture of mud, with a touch of gold.
A beautiful blend with any colour,
Eyes black and gentle with a tiny sparkle,
With lips not red with rouge, but full and lucious.
This hair of mine, oh what a wonder
thick like wool with its stubborn texture.
In spite of all that,
I love my skin!
My Black African nappy hair
to cut low is not fair.
I am bold in the middle.
Some grows out and some grows in
some are thick and some are thin
my hair is neither brown, nor gray
so see my wave and I am brave
to cut my hair
and it's not fair.