It's not that i desire to have long hair
It's just my natural hair is a nightmare
Braids are easy you just unwrap and go
Wearing different styles or let them hang low
Some explore with different colors but i love black
Corn rows, twists, individuals we can all do that
It brings out our creativity and sets us apart
It's not just a style we wear it's a work of art
I admit it takes a while and you have to be willing to sit
How much hair to use takes serious measurement
Whether we do them ourselves or someone else gets paid
It doesn't make a difference we love wearing braids.
Snow cascading
like white hair
down night's cold shoulder —
frost stitches,
mercury descension,
and mad raven streak —
her woman hair must flow,
the child in the mirror
with pigtails
one more season old —
snow melts or grows old,
a frigid connection,
boughs sometimes —
fall came and went
for blossoms —
and her nature has
fallen for it
That lady without make up
I want her who is beautiful when she wakes up
She is natural when she shake up
Her smile is none plastic her no fake up
Her beauty sum up
A total woman cobbled up
Her without make up
SHe who is beautiful when she wakes up.
The one who concentrates on her books
Not her looks, boots or boobs
She is above average and can wash and cook
She never has a private degree from a private university
With private marks from High-school
She is a wise lady
One without make up
She who is beautiful when she wakes up.
Do not give me leftovers from the Hyenas
Not again I am done doing vultures
I am neither a lion
I want not to fall for lies
Give me peace
One who sees beyond the powder on the face
One who invests in her brains
One who can forgo braids for books
Give me looks and content
one without make up
she who is beautiful when she wakes up!
Do not give me the YOLOs and WCWs
Do not give me those obsessed with likes
Give me like my mother a wife
A woman
A mother
A lioness
Give me braids with brains.
I ask with Humility
Time to seek Purity.
Go for dignity.
Braids & boredom
Loons last forum
She speaks in a riot of trash
Though elegantly styled
She flaunts a toothless smile
But most have proclaimed her half daft.
She thinks of senior bicker
Perhaps has made her sicker
Born an old lady she's told
Though not nearly a teen
Still rotten & mean
Her demeanor was calloused & cold.
Midnight calls on echoed walls
With barred down windows & steely drape
With her slip on socks & their padded locks
She wanders the halls to escape.
She swallows their pills & their crap
And cuddles a pillow to nap
And in a ragged breath she laughs...
No family, no visits, no wonder
She's written off over a blunder
Still most have proclaimed her half daft.
Playfully graceful
Braided hair redolent of
Femininity,
It's captivating to read
Your character's signature
Loosen the braids
Upon the white marble of night
Let his hand wander through
Your hair's noble origin
As the emerald of his heart
That faded through
The lonely long nights
Becomes green
Loosen the braid
Upon the white marble of night
For a long time
You were decreed to love
Like a thousand poems
Written on the face of a wall
Loosen the braids
Upon the white marble of night
Then toss to him
A light thread of happiness
A vehement torrent
From the rain god
Perhaps a drop lives
Deep inside the oyster
That becomes a pearl