Maybe I’m Not Ugly, Maybe I’m Just Black

Maybe my skin
does glow
under the kiss
of the sun.
Maybe it’s color
is paralleled
to life’s
simplest
pleasures;
coffee, & chocolate.
Maybe the Greek goddess
Gaia,
had skin
the hue of
the rich soil.
Maybe she’s gifted
all my Earth-colored
sisters
that.
“Life originated in Africa,
right?”

Maybe my night dark hair
isn’t “wild”
nor
does it need to be lightened.
It’s just
different
and
within its difference
you can do
a multitude
of things.

Maybe
my nose
doing it’s job
of
letting me breath
is the only typa
job
it needs.

Maybe my eyes
exchanged color
for glisten.
Maybe they’re copying
the midnight sky and the twinkle of starlight.
Maybe they
hold mystery
or
tell a story
if you’re receptive.

And maybe
just
maybe.
Perhaps, I took all these things
unknowingly,
for granted.
I didn’t know how to label them,
society didn’t either
so I called them
“ugly.”

But let’s just say
for arguments sake
I am not ugly
let’s just say
I am just
Black.

Rachel Bradford

African-American

I'm a poetry author, constantly writing! spoken word, lyrical poetry plus a philosophy enthusiast!