Perfection, it inspired what she wanted,
It was all she ever wanted, Perfection,
To gain prominence, predominance, to be held in high esteem,
But her self-esteem, has it ever been redeemed?
Such a travesty, a miscarriage of justice,
The crime, the horror, can you feel her pain,
Rich and beautiful coloured skin has been maimed,
The pride of her ancestors slain,
Each generation left an imprint,
In the genome programing the tint,
A layer of protection, carefully refined,
Tested and developed under conditions so harsh,
Only the best survived,
Now she cannot survive,
She’s been besieged and her defences hammered,
Her skin now the thinnest of veneer coverings,
Barely covering the harshest of her inner turmoils,
Pressured by her peers, she was lied to,
The poor dear, her peers so insincere,
So she did what she thought was right,
It’s always mentioned that she’s so bright,
Only in the photos did she want to be bright,
So she figured it out, modern day alchemy,
She went through a mutation, colour was muted,
Beyond recognition and now lacking definition,
Now a pale imitation of its past vast potential,
Truly the largest of all organs is left a residual,
My senses tell me of a senseless destruction,
Millions upon millions destroyed, bleached away,
Skin cells, bleached, all for a misguided dream,
For if she knew, if only she knew,
That I pray, and wish that it would rain,
To both wash away her pain,
And to wash away her pain,
Abshir Bille Ahmed
Copyright © 2013
No comments:
Post a Comment