To the weird Black girls who were told they weren't Black enough to hang.
Peace my sisters.
You are rockstars,
Your weirdness is now art on walls,
Your poetry is now shelved in bookstores.
You knew that our ancestors invented the drums, So your music wasn't limited to one genre, you're freedom shows in front of every camera.
Black boys didn't quite get you, & White boys just wanted to get inside you.
We're alike, I also love cautiously never revealing the best parts of me.
Weird Black girls we should let you live,
live to create, live to be inspired by those who you desperately want to imitate, wanting more, but struggles to find herself
With what's left ; "baby mamas," "bad hair" "loud hoes" and "anger."
We've been unfairly put in a box,
with words that read-
"This is only, what Black girls are allowed to receive."