Tell them they're pretty,
Tell them they're Beautiful,
Tell them everything is going to be okay.
These days there's so many questions, but not enough answers.
So the amount of tedious hours you spend contemplating does not matter because in the end You'll never know why.
You'll never know why people prey on little children, why they hurt something so defenseless and weak.
You'll never know why people question their existence, why they think it's okay to play God.
But most certainly, You'll never know why people need to be told they're pretty or beautiful everyday to feel complete and intact when they had the unappreciated pleasure of seeing a new Day.
They have the privilege of waking up and the privilege of breathing, walking and seeing.
Yet they still feel their lives are invalid because no one has verbally praised them for their physical appearance.
Their Mundane troubles of validity can not compare to what this young child carries.
As She lays along the side of her father's hospital bed with heavy eye lids, not able to speak, the last words on her mind are pretty and beautiful. She suffers from wounds both emotional and physical and even though she can barely breathe on her own, She is not her main concern.
Her life and the lives of Her family members has been torn, but this baby was born a fighter.
She does not question Her existence, it's the very thing she's pleading for.
The only thing she questions is why someone would do this to them.
why did someone feel as she did not deserve to live.
She does not want someone to whisper that she's beautiful to her paralyzed Body.
All she wants is for her Father to breathe.
So You'll never know why.
why people act like breathing is the worst thing in the world,
why they think fighting for what they believe in is wrong,
why Children are no longer safe.
You'll never understand why families are now strangers,
why the love of power is stronger than the power of love,
Why the color of my skin automatically makes me guilty,
and why people believe that being called beautiful and pretty are the only achievements in life.
You'll never know why,
You don't want to know why.
So tell them they're pretty,
tell them they're beautiful,
tell them everything is going to be okay.
As a young teen, around the age of 15 I wrote the original version of the poem in 2013. I had planned on reciting in during a pageant the following summer but soon changed my mind. The plot of the young girl and her father was not apart of the original Piece, but after everything that has been happening to our Black communities and individuals I can't seem to get the trouble of my people off of my mind. This poem is not solely focused on the tragedies of black men, But the focus is more on how we tend to forget the simple blessings in life. We become unappreciative and rely on something else to make happiness valid, as if Being alive isn't enough to be Happy about.
