K.C.A.L.B bka Black Beauty
I'm not merely existing but living
In a place where the cries are whispered through the laughters
And theres always a happily ever after
In a place called black
Black beauty, a novelty
Caramel complexion a fantasy
Never ever ever in your wildest dream
Could you invision a color thats the rival of cream
A whole race of so much pain
Color of the earth on their face in vain
Black beauty
In the hearts of men, women and children alike
A culture burned down in the midst of a fight
Black beauty all I've ever known
chocolate kisses, fingers and toes
Low income housing, section-8 homes
Fires of smoke corners of dope
Big brown eyes filled with hope
They chant blues, they chant jazz
They have no future because they don't know their past
Shrieks and cries of Africa's forsaken
High mortgages so welfare is taken
emotional scars deeply rooted in me
invisible trangressions that the whole world can see
Hate is hate love is love
It hurts even more when its being done by those your'e apart of
Black is more than just a race
It's more than just a color
It's a history filled with mysteries
You may call this place fake but I know it's real
These are my emotions this is how I feel
[WRITTEN FOR SMITHSBURG DESSERTS WITH THE ARTS, THE NIGHT BEFORE. I HAD TO WRITE A POEM , DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO RIGHT ABOUT. LOOKED AT MY SKIN & WROTE. WRITTEN LATE AT NIGHT-FRESHMAN YEAR-LAST YEAR. OVERALL TOP OF MY HEAD]
In a place where the cries are whispered through the laughters
And theres always a happily ever after
In a place called black
Black beauty, a novelty
Caramel complexion a fantasy
Never ever ever in your wildest dream
Could you invision a color thats the rival of cream
A whole race of so much pain
Color of the earth on their face in vain
Black beauty
In the hearts of men, women and children alike
A culture burned down in the midst of a fight
Black beauty all I've ever known
chocolate kisses, fingers and toes
Low income housing, section-8 homes
Fires of smoke corners of dope
Big brown eyes filled with hope
They chant blues, they chant jazz
They have no future because they don't know their past
Shrieks and cries of Africa's forsaken
High mortgages so welfare is taken
emotional scars deeply rooted in me
invisible trangressions that the whole world can see
Hate is hate love is love
It hurts even more when its being done by those your'e apart of
Black is more than just a race
It's more than just a color
It's a history filled with mysteries
You may call this place fake but I know it's real
These are my emotions this is how I feel
[WRITTEN FOR SMITHSBURG DESSERTS WITH THE ARTS, THE NIGHT BEFORE. I HAD TO WRITE A POEM , DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO RIGHT ABOUT. LOOKED AT MY SKIN & WROTE. WRITTEN LATE AT NIGHT-FRESHMAN YEAR-LAST YEAR. OVERALL TOP OF MY HEAD]
Fennella Like Whoa