Brown Skin

Today I met the Brown skin
I call her that because it was what she was known by back when I knew her
Brown skin and I went to the same church
She was the light that filled most boys’ nights
And the reason most girls wore envy as a garment
She had all the handsome, masculine and well framed men under her whimsical
Acting like dogs would at the sight of a chicken bone
We on the other hand had the chaff; smitten, beaten and weak
The kind that would frail on cold mornings and sneeze more than whales
We held onto these weaklings’ hands, mostly dissatisfied but appreciative of their advances
Unfortunately, our necks remained craned to the men we wished to have
The men Brown skin treated like dots

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Overtime, we grew up, moved on and forgot these men whose fiery glances toward Brown Skin tore at our hearts
Our prayers changed to “Father in Heaven, we thank you for the unanswered prayers”
We realized we didn’t get them then but we were in a better place to make them wish they had invested in where their eyes were not
More often we went off singing Hallelujah and winking at Karma like “You are loyal bish”
We were happier than Jack and Jill on their way up the hill after we met their glutton looking bodies
We were more confident than Red Ridinghood when we realized they no-longer had effect in the affairs of our hearts
Oh the relish.

Forgive me, I tend to lose myself in too much thought
Let us get back to where we began
Oh yes, I met Brown skin and there was something oddly odd about her
She had lost a glow; both her own and her maker’s
She looked worn out, hard stretched and flustered at her 22
She had slew long before the world caught onto the slay queen trend but now she looked slain
In my bell bottom jeans, faded maroon tank top and fish open shoes, I couldn’t be compared with her.. I looked far better
She had tonnes more skin and age
Just one look at her and I knew what the cause was.
Just one look!!

Brown Skin was not jolly as she was before
She had long lost her spark
She had gotten comfortable
Heeding not the gospel of levels
You don’t stay in the same place for too long and expect to remain relevant
And just like that, the boys had come and gone same as the men
Coming and leaving like seasons
Enjoying her smile and hearty chuckle and later finding agitation when her dimples showered the sides of her temples
Had she soared, had she moved, she would have found inspiration from someone else
Possibly even finding a mentor to guide her through her life’s purpose
Maybe she would still have attracted all the men to herself because her glow would only have gotten stronger and better
Maybe we would still be jealous of her
But then she would be in a better place with a better outlook on life
But she stuck to the same, to what she knew
Scared of taking a step into the waters; fearing that she may drown

No this is no memorial message to Brown Skin
As a matter of fact, she is alive and maybe well; living life as the young people would say nowadays
She just looks faded as the black cloth you last let go
She looks drained, thirsting for more and not knowing where to get it from
Feeding on Inspiration and motivational speeches from “Servants” that have forsaken the words that give Life.
These servants are just not speaking to dead minds, they are influencing decisions
Her soul dies everyday but her Spirit was long buried
Under the clamp of man’s ideas—Religion
Oh give me a glass of wine, I am not jealous of Brown skin anymore— I drink because she has deliberately veiled herself
I sympathize with her but I pray for her more
In my bell bottom jeans, I write about Brown Skin
For the first time today, she didn’t say “Hmmm, she stretched out her hand in polite greeting!!


End: This is just not any poem… If you read to the end, I would like to hear/read your thoughts😊😐.. Thank you!

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