In Africa the color is black,
Cherish and beautiful like a morning star.
A color that is unrepairable,
Reflection in the eyes so deep,
Drown felt like seeing a queen with a crown
Strong and potential,
A beauty with responsibility to capture the hearts of man
In her cage,
She's a young soul original to bring fortune every time it rains
She's like a thunder in the rain that captures misfortune.
Mind flows with wisdom,
And her body's attached like the godless in concubine.
Her Cries are woe of revenge and power.
Death is far away to capture a woman like her,
She can be a spirit crawling with her reptile skin,
But is untouchable like morning breeze.
She is an important chess piece
That cannot be easily removed.
She has a face, that one sees through
When you press your lips against her
A flood of poisonous schemes awaits you,
She is like a blood Tonic.
When you view her,
Her true self shows,
And pushes you to infinite possible dreams
You can dream of
With mind set up.
By: Jelvin S. Gibso
Pen name: Inkbloc
A poet, Teacher, Actor,
Director and an Introvert