*La Plus Belle Afrique*

The scorched sun blazed the influx,
Leaving them embroidered with immense.
Heat, thier skin was as dark as thunderstorms,
But they embraced it in majority because that's
Who they are .

This happened before the age of make ups and puffy,
Weird looks that now make us look more like corpse
Of fillterd clown.
The rainbow never bridge or disguise,
It's glow or it's birth right colour.

Creating a world of adjustment for the ones with highly insatiable nature,
The desire to raise a nose,
Add to buttocks, thighs,
Amend the head,
Go tall or slim...
Eeii! Really!

What a shame for the black bleaching,
Forgetting that its expiring date is boldly written on his skin.
A scenario of trial and failure,
Going from black to white,
And naturally coming back black...
All for the old age to reveal a living scarecrow, scariest crow!

Have you seen my mother?
A black woman with black skin,
A black woman with Black's thinking,
A black woman with Black's culture.
My forefathers dreams come true,
The true face of my ancestors,
The coolest angel and the hottest demon,
The S-Hero in body and soul.

Have you seen my mother?
A dam of African tales,
A sea of brilliant ideas,
A gallery of African culture,
A land of green foods and herbs,
A pool of African riches,
A sexy Womb-Man with herculean strength,
A market of African pride.

Our noses are now stretched to sizes,
Trying to be a gimmick a micmic of something we are not .
Bring back Africa before media was recognized,
Before it got to decide what beauty is,
From what's distorted or slice of perfection is.

I'm still marching till this day,
Awaiting a laughter of not some programed manners mischief,
Where boundaries and limitations are set ,
Where being me is not questioned and monitored.

Take me home before my garments,
My racks were not called public indecency.
When men used to labour without being held against their own wish,
When women knew thier places and admired their faces.

*B.O.T* *OJIJI* _and_ *Relic* *de* *Hercus*