Faces of cursoriness, envy, hope, and excitement controls the room

Wanting deeply to get the latest

Some are trying to get a promotion on their first day

Well respected eyes gleam of desire to be the one in all elitism

Lights, Flash, Camera Shot

Fabrics sway, smells of perfume smothers the air

Needles pinching the skin

Blushes and eye shadows fill the scene

Insecurities mixed like skin complexions

Acceptance is mixed in with the overly confident

Feet swollen while the mind is racing “Am I good enough”

Slight residue of spritz and primer spray brushes past faces

Tears of joy and sorrow

Laughter of success

Claps and cheers ringing in my ear along with hating comments of being told never will I make it

Sight of “White Only Signs” and water hoses cloud my mind

Models walk in a single filed line ranging from culture to culture

Giving the audience one last lustful look

To the garments that compliments the silhouette of one’s body

Then I close my eyes for a quick glimpse of accomplishment that I’m headed to face.

I walk out last head held high

A delicate concrete rose from Chicago

Went from having no guidance and little education

To a mother and top designer

I go on stage take a last bow and wink at my son to show him all we been through, our skin color doesn’t matter because dreams can still come true.


By Jasmine D. Crisp Created 4/30/2014


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