The Black Women: Over-Sexualization of Black Women and Black Girl Magic
The innocence of youth
The innocence of youth,
The ignorance of teenaged years
Melted the tender heart
As innocently, she looks into space.
Innocence is murdered!
Looking, but not seeing
As her peers filed past
The chattering,
The laughter,
Jolted her back to reality,
The reality of her situation.
Stranded in the middle of the road,
Her future kept on hold
For the unplanned life
Growing inside of her.
Oh, how she cried!
But, no one could hear her voice;
Lonely night, she has to endure
Not a single idea in mind
How to find eromonmon for the “thing”
Growing inside of her.
Innocence is murdered!
The nights and days seem longer;
The fetus neither knows its surroundings
Nor cares about eromonmon.
Innocence has to give way
And maturity overtakes.
A child gave birth to a child;
The heart is made bare
And replaced with a heart of stone
Never to love again,
And then the feeble mind yielded.
Innocence is murdered!
By: Napoleon Saigbovo
A moonless, Starless Sky
Book Review: Mark Mathabane- The lesson of Ubuntu: How an African Philosophy Can Inspire Racial Healing in America.
The Silent Pain We Continue to Bear
Collectively, we bear the pain
Where people have to suffer
Pains of ignorance.
They lose their rights to freedom
Before they find solutions.
Collectively, we bear the pain.
There remains an underclass
That groans in pain.
Their fellows unjustly find their way to freedom
And turn into a serious problem
Wrap themselves in influence and power
That birth dirty riches and wealth.
Collectively, we bear the pain,
Where injustice and suffering
Is exchanged for truth
And men sleep under bridges
With stones as pillows
And cartons as beds
His fellows who claimed to be exalted
Pass by and smile
With arrogant speeches.
Collectively, we bear the pain,
Where you sit on bare floors
You beg before you eat and drink
You stand and talk like them
You are condemned and rejected.
Collectively, we bear the pain.
From time past until now
There remains an under-class
That groans and struggles through life alone
Suffering as if you must ATONE.
By: Napoleon Saigbovo