As Stong as the An African Elephant
Yet were are supple and elegant.
We are persuasive talkers so our words are very Eloquent.
Crafted From man's rib and An earthly element is How God made the first Wombman in the old testiment.
During the worlds development
We somehow begun to be irrelevant
Forgetting that we were designed as a help mate who is heaven sent.

We shed Bloods for days sometimes a months without dying.
Raising our children to Be Ladies and gentlemen whom are edifying.
In our wombs a human life we are able carry.
We are informational like a human dictionary.
We store resoureful pieces of data like a library.

Created with brown sugar, warm honey, cocoa and Gold.
Out spirits are Radiently Bold.
Our bodies are temples that can't be bought or sold.
We have a Story that must be hear and told.
We are the beautiful flowers in the month of May That Springs up and blooms in middle of noons day.
We flourish just as the fluorescent blue jay, Whose mood is Joyful and gay.
Our Skin absorbs the sun's Incandescent. Ray.
Some may say, Our hair is ***** but Actually, Our hair just happens to defy gravity
So we wear it upon our head proudly like a Crown
because Living in socitey's prospective of what you should look like will weigh you down.
You will stay stuck on being lost when you already have been found.
Be about your fathers business and know you are Heaven bound.

We are run life's race with meaning and purpose in our pace
Even our walk is embedded with grace
Nature's beauty smiles upon our face
As We Wear God's love like a Pure Gold necklace that's trimmed with lace.

The Strength we've gain
Turned us into warriors from living the through the most Excruciating pain
Thats the Reason we humbly pray as we sing and dance in the middle of the storm's rain.
Our humility will continue to remain.

We are women of Virtue
I wrote this to encourage you
Never let no one break, hurt or discourage you know who you belong to.
And who deserves a Woman of your statue.
For Being black Is Exhilarating
And being a woman is Breathtaking but Being a Black Woman is an Honorary Identity that is Legendary.

The woman I see
I look in the mirror at my reflection, and gaze at the woman looking back.
She has been through so much in her short life, and yet her soul is still intact.
She has known love vast as an ocean, and thought her heart would burst from the joy.
As well as the pain from losing that love, so deep she felt her life was destroyed.
She has seen beauty so vivid and golden that all she could do was stare back in awe.
Along with the ugliness she’d rather forget; it made her curl up in a ball and withdraw.
She’s laughed so hard that her stomach hurt, and it took hours to cease.
Then cried tears that left her heartbroken, and numb, from feeling the bottomless grief.
At times she’s been brave, and overcome doubt, to be stronger than she once was.
That very next breath been afraid to do something, and make an error she couldn’t whitewash.
She’s become quite a woman from living her life, and, she has gained so much intelligence.
Yet she’s also been a fool, and brutally reminded, she still has immense incompetence.
The woman I see looking back from the mirror is true deep down to her soul.
I applaude her and believe that, no matter what happens, she is still more precious than gold.

Randy McPeek

I knew her better than any of you
And maybe her less
I know not when she died
Or how she went
But it seems she just faded away
Slowly and peacefully
Perhaps she isn't fully dead
And she'll make special cameos
But are the dead ever really gone?
She was someone I thought I could call friend
She wasn't
She was mean and cold
She couldn't stand herself
She was hateful and hot headed
And was incapable of love
Because she had little--
If any--
Self-respect
Her heart was broken long before
I thought to save her
She always went for the abusive ones
No matter where she went
Because she thought that was love
She was sarcastic and blunt
To the point of defensive
Because she was scared
Even I could hardly love her
But I did
I say she wasn't a friend
But that's a half-lie
She was definitely the
Back-stabbing kind
She was the girl you didn't want
To be with
And my image is stained
Because of that
I was closer to her than anyone of you
Yet I was also the furthest away
She somehow managed to receive genuine love
But now she is a ghost
Cleaning out the hole in her throat
In my bathroom sink
She can linger for a while
I don't mind
Eventually I'll tell her to disappear
To pack her bags and leave
So,
Miss Samantha Marie Moore
From the kingdom of
Self-Loathe and Negativity,
Rest in Peace
Because you've ******* me over enough
And I am done
Bathing in your aura

The stream goes up, the tears come down.
The fears they clump, they shake and drown.
But thrill uplifts, it wakes and sticks.

For if time could, stay, still, today.
One moment we sway, another we slay.
The road is made, with pain it shall fade.

We choose, we lose, we cruise, we abuse.
The feelings of truth could they lie to you?
O, sweet friend, just keep your hue.

Blue, the colour of you.
Blue, the time to undo.
Blue, the life that you move.

Fragile little butterfly; You broke the golden barrier of delicate crystal which used to inhibit your abilities, and now you're free. The kaleidoscopic wings on your back only show how much more colourful you are on the inside.

*If only everybody could see.