By: Denise N. Fyffe.
Copyright © 2017, Denise N. Fyffe
I stand in my skin
And I ponder within
Of my history
Of my story.
The foundation of me
Which I forget so easily
Of my history
Of my story.
Those who struggled
Those who fought for my freedom
For our freedom.
Now it is all about the money and bling,
And the Lexus and Bims.
I have forgotten my history
I have forgotten my story.
The foundation of me,
I have forgotten so easily,
I have forgotten my story.
The strength of my thighs
The confidence in my eyes,
This is a story,
Of my history.
The length and strength of my hair,
Wool, beaded, corn-rowed;
Do I care?
About this story,
About my history.
The strength of my shoulders,
The strong muscles in my back,
This is a story,
Of my history.
The pride in my eyes,
When my baby son cries,
And he grows to know me,
He grows to show me.
The access to education,
To be the future of my nation
This is a story,
Of my history.
To stand strong,
To be a doctor, teacher or parliamentarian;
This is a story of struggle,
In my history.
I stand in my skin
And I ponder within
Of my history
Of my story.
The foundation of me
Which I forget so easily
Of my history
Of my black story.
