in the quietness
through the door;
of silence.

I was a sunflower;

in all my colorful glory
a happy sight to behold
—more to my nature than could be imagined.

But you preferred roses;

Soft.
With petals that called your fingers
to linger as they please.

Black woman will go through racism, absent father, abuse by spouse and still shine.

She will protect with fierce love she has but only experienced from her own struggling mother.

She will teach love and forgiveness as if being victim to hate were foreign to her.

She will sweat

and cry

and bleed

then cover her wounds and continue being the pillar of this earth.

She is beautiful, despite being told she isn't.

She is God's creation.

She is you.

You are she.

And black woman,

You   are   powerful.

Girls constructing blocks,
and boys with chopping boards.

Girls driving cars,
and boys wearing scarves.

Girls do pick up a fight,
and boys argue to prove they’re right.

Girls are loud,
and boys are loud, too.

Quiet now, children.
Pack your toys right away.