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.

If we spent less time complaining about the weather,
we could of already brought a short and sweater.

Your the daughter of stars
The moon is your first love
The night is your amour
The sky is your limit,
the universe of beauty,
There’s twilight  in your soul
Your the ruminate of stellar
A regent of galaxies

Remember their works of art,
Yes, then how many of the Hello Poetry artists
Liked, favorite, reposted,
Some very nice poets supported with suns,
I read their last poem in many years,
And I wonder...
What happened after their last poem?
Did they stop publishing publicly?
Completely stop writing poetry?
And why so...
They became too ill to continue?
Did they die?
Accident, sickness or suicide?
When they’re writing was it a call for help!?

There are many unanswered questions
However I’m going to keep writing
Until I became a dead poet.

Sometimes, I am in love with myself.
I force them to witness my love for my melanin
because they would love for me to hate my melanin.
I know that I am seen, but I want to be heard, 
The first amendment allows me to speak, but they refused to hear a word-
that comes from my mouth.
My lips stereotyped as too black.
My diction too proper to act like this,
yet my slang is too ghetto to act like that...
Sometimes, I wonder what it's like to be white.
I hate being stared at when I speak in Spanish.
I never know if it's in disgust or in comfort, 
because the sound of the double "r" rolling off of my tongue
sounds like the ricochet of the bullets they fire from their guns.
Since they no longer can enslave us like animals, they slaughter us
because, "if I can't have you no one can."
I refuse to be put down.
I refuse to shutdown.
My brown skin threatens,
and you all should be afraid.
Because I will banish your negativity with my Latin American flow,
speaking in Spanish with the Bachata tempo filling my veins.
My Ebonics is iconic, 
and I refuse to be put in a box when the world is a sphere.

I... am more... than this.