The colour of my skin,
an accident of birth
a circumstance
over which I had
absolutely no control.
Yet I am often held to randsome
accountable for actions of others
with whom I only hold in common
the same pigmentation (or lack thereof)
a similar genetic makeup.
As if by this circumstantial
exterior presentation
which my genes, my ancestry
has locked me into
somehow describes Me.....
The woman, the soul,
the personality created by God
trapped within the shell
that the world sees
and uses to define me.
Periodically I examine
this body,
often surprised at how it keeps changing
so I eat right, excercise, lose weight
but this just affects the body.
The core inside
is still me
and the most important changes
are the ones that no one ever sees
the ones only I can feel.
The changes in my heart
each time it has been broken
The maturity that let me walk away
stop trying to fix
what was outside of myself.
The strength
that made me rise each day
when my last child was laid to rest
so that I would be there
for the other two.
The humility
that allowed me to ask for forgiveness
admit my past mistakes
and face the consequences
head on.
The acknowledgement
that I dont have all the answers
and often neither do my friends
but that I can submit to God
who does.
I have been molded
changed, guided....
forged like steel through fyah
made into the person
who you do not see.
When you look
at my skin colour,
greying hair,
amber eyes, size,
my.....whatever.
Whatever it is
that you see
when you look at me
unless you can get beyond the surface
delve deep and truly feel who I am.
Who I am
is not described
by a skin colour
the size or shape of my behind
my weight or even my career.
Who I am
is in my heart, my soul
my intentions and actions
not how i say it,
but what i mean.
What I give
the touch, the mark i leave
The hug, caress, the laughter
the smile, wink and shoulder to cry on
Loyal friend, mentor, mom.
So when you look at me
consider carefully what you really see
Who I really am,
or who you
expect me to be.
an accident of birth
a circumstance
over which I had
absolutely no control.
Yet I am often held to randsome
accountable for actions of others
with whom I only hold in common
the same pigmentation (or lack thereof)
a similar genetic makeup.
As if by this circumstantial
exterior presentation
which my genes, my ancestry
has locked me into
somehow describes Me.....
The woman, the soul,
the personality created by God
trapped within the shell
that the world sees
and uses to define me.
Periodically I examine
this body,
often surprised at how it keeps changing
so I eat right, excercise, lose weight
but this just affects the body.
The core inside
is still me
and the most important changes
are the ones that no one ever sees
the ones only I can feel.
The changes in my heart
each time it has been broken
The maturity that let me walk away
stop trying to fix
what was outside of myself.
The strength
that made me rise each day
when my last child was laid to rest
so that I would be there
for the other two.
The humility
that allowed me to ask for forgiveness
admit my past mistakes
and face the consequences
head on.
The acknowledgement
that I dont have all the answers
and often neither do my friends
but that I can submit to God
who does.
I have been molded
changed, guided....
forged like steel through fyah
made into the person
who you do not see.
When you look
at my skin colour,
greying hair,
amber eyes, size,
my.....whatever.
Whatever it is
that you see
when you look at me
unless you can get beyond the surface
delve deep and truly feel who I am.
Who I am
is not described
by a skin colour
the size or shape of my behind
my weight or even my career.
Who I am
is in my heart, my soul
my intentions and actions
not how i say it,
but what i mean.
What I give
the touch, the mark i leave
The hug, caress, the laughter
the smile, wink and shoulder to cry on
Loyal friend, mentor, mom.
So when you look at me
consider carefully what you really see
Who I really am,
or who you
expect me to be.
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