Poem: The Melting Pot

Dark brown eyes blink

against endless tears that

carve rivers down rounded cheeks.

Okkk

Salty seas that border mountainous

nostrils and crash into

the curvatures of plump lips.

They ain’t gone stop

‘til our skin melt off.

Nappy, curly, kinky, twisted roots

that grow defiantly

in every direction.

Glorious locks that cascade

down backs and interlaced braids

that crown heads in glory.

They ain’t gone stop

‘til our skin melt off.

Beautiful blackened hues give way

to bronzed browns; honeysuckle sweet,

royal cloaks that clothe heirs in dignity.

The melting pot of America

that promises a land without woes

but alas, there is only hysteria

for those that refuse the status quo.

Pressed down into a foreign culture

silver spoons beat our heads,

our value torn apart by vultures

did’ja hear what grandmother said?

They will not stop until our melanin is melted off.

Writer Bio:

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