My African Women

Great wife of the king..
lady of both motherlands
the most praised lady of Grace
showerin her sweet Love and Beauty towards those who follow
never once hearing the nervy remarks of her people.
highly respected, momentums and temples built in her favor. Not slaves of any kind but merely out of the purest love.
how it feels to be colored me
stolen from my beloved
stripped and chained to another.
cursing the foreigners that ripped me away
threw into a hole where death is of my only desire.
Death,
Shadowing my every gesture, mocking and laughing as we struggle to survive.
Capturing my breath before I breathe them
Smiling as she witness hopes and dreams crushed.
All for my beloved which keeps me alive
Playing with my mind, only to capture my soul
For the foreigners placing fear in our hearts only to make the desire for her grow. 
beaten and raped,
"Coje a esa perra negro, ella es nada más que una puta"
they speak their foreign language that frighten my essense
Desiring to perish in childlike crys, death laughs as she watchs me cry
Mocking my moans of pain, and fear with scornful eyes.
Oh how it feels to be colored me
Beaten to believing I must be surpass my men
Where figments of which I used to love, adorn, kiss torn by flamming mules in opposited directions. 
Isolated, whipped and hung.
The birth age in which ignorance becomes a bliss

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