PAINTER
To paint her soul,
she holds a brush.
Her feet tremble and
there's a crash.
Through the itchy pitchy heart
full of trash,
her destiny is hidden
and betwixt a eyelash
beauty fades in seconds.
She is a brand of brass,
on the grass.
She paints her dress
Colourless.
She wants the world
to see her flawless,
but she's a soul lifeless.
This woman is a fighter.
She sees the darkest brighter.
She is a super creature.
Her dark skin is richer,
in the view of nature.
She's not a bleacher,
of her destiny and future.
Her steps a measure,
black her pleasure.
She's a love preacher.
Her blood pressure,
is the world's treasure.
She's prone
to think alone
yet the crown
is not only her own,
but for the Universe.
Honor to her passion,
hail black creation,
love for her imperfection,
salute to her motivation.