My dark skin
Your light skin
Your white skin
We are all mankind but then
Society paints a picture that does not complete the scripture
That the Father wrote in full
We fuss
We fight
Point fingers at different figures
Taught to hate one another, but I see the BIGGER picture
Joining together
Positivity will reign
Crowns placed upon our heads, Girl, who THEN can debate?
Piercing through with heels and sneakers
We are the dreams of ancestors, We Are Our Sister's Keeper
Hold high the stars and cast down negativity
My dark skin
Your light skin
Your white skin
We Are QUEENS!
About the Creator
Treva Carter
33 years young! Trying to restore back to myself the gift that I thought was lost! Writing is who I am, it is my time to claim it.
Instagram: trevaisthename
Website: www.marysdaughter.org
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More stories from Treva Carter and writers in Poets and other communities.
Manicured Nails
Slow jams play on old cassette tape / how most don't know the tune / r&b lyrics penetrate through diamond design / bright colors of the Isley Brothers spread through UV light rays / french tips make lady feel like Stevie Wonder, wishing you were those soft piano keys / fresh manicure takes the passion of Erykah Badu, Lauryn Hill and Tank / those manicured nails, those beautiful extensions of the soul who wears them / those hot off the press designed flawless captured with every stroke of nail tech stroke/ how lovely to be a woman / how strong to stand in beauty when world is not so bright / sun rise yellow, Manhattan matted grey, red wine sleek reds, these are the colors of the womanhood raised / these are the stories, these are the nails, these are but one factor that makes a woman so great!
By Treva Carter7 years ago in Poets
A Recipe for Indigo: How to Cultivate the Perfect Solitude
The Manual for Quiet Blue Step 1: Preparation of the Vessel Wait for a day when the sky is the color of a bruised plum. Open your window exactly three inches— enough for the damp cedar smell to enter, but not enough for the world to come inside. Sit on the tatami, or the cold wooden floor, and align your spine with the falling rain.
By Takashi Nagaya5 days ago in Poets
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