HairFanatic01
New Member
Black Hair: WhY ArEn\'T yOu GrOwInG???
a POEM THAT i WROTE and wanted to share......
** The question **
Nappy roots and coily kinks I think about how you do me.
Pulling and tugging dry and tangled that does a tango of triangles around my comb.
Why can't we separate as two instead of one with you nappy on your own.
My biggest fear is you not being there even after you've done
me so wrong.
Why did you have to be so difficult
when it was time to get my perm?
It was your dark cotton texture
that made me treat you that way.
The glue, cheap gel and bad perms
were done to control you since
you wanted to show up without warning me.
I'm tired of pulling you back with
extensions and hiding your
tight curls that oh so shows my
blackness.
Only if you were already
beautiful, straight and silky, I
wouldn't have to hide your
footsteps.
These steps that come running
down my block and knocking
at my door after a few weeks.
The blonde streaks that I marked
you with were only to hide those
ugly feet of yours.
My next question is why aren't you growing?
Is it because you are coarse
and filled with zingy coils or
the ancestors from whence you came weren't meant to have
hair that flows.
** The confession **
No....it is my indifference
toward your feelings and care.
I poison you, but don't strengthen
you. I hide you, but fail to nourish your roots while putting you away.
And I torture you with many shapes, but I never give you a break.
** The response **
It was the growing of black that grew far away that made me reply in why and the aren't pushed itself in a corner that spoke not of you, but others who I so hurt you to be like. And the hair that is constantly pulled and snagged to the far ends of the earth I say you are black and the blackness that you have failed to acknowledge or claim and your failure to love and care is why I this hair is not growing.
a POEM THAT i WROTE and wanted to share......
** The question **
Nappy roots and coily kinks I think about how you do me.
Pulling and tugging dry and tangled that does a tango of triangles around my comb.
Why can't we separate as two instead of one with you nappy on your own.
My biggest fear is you not being there even after you've done
me so wrong.
Why did you have to be so difficult
when it was time to get my perm?
It was your dark cotton texture
that made me treat you that way.
The glue, cheap gel and bad perms
were done to control you since
you wanted to show up without warning me.
I'm tired of pulling you back with
extensions and hiding your
tight curls that oh so shows my
blackness.
Only if you were already
beautiful, straight and silky, I
wouldn't have to hide your
footsteps.
These steps that come running
down my block and knocking
at my door after a few weeks.
The blonde streaks that I marked
you with were only to hide those
ugly feet of yours.
My next question is why aren't you growing?
Is it because you are coarse
and filled with zingy coils or
the ancestors from whence you came weren't meant to have
hair that flows.
** The confession **
No....it is my indifference
toward your feelings and care.
I poison you, but don't strengthen
you. I hide you, but fail to nourish your roots while putting you away.
And I torture you with many shapes, but I never give you a break.
** The response **
It was the growing of black that grew far away that made me reply in why and the aren't pushed itself in a corner that spoke not of you, but others who I so hurt you to be like. And the hair that is constantly pulled and snagged to the far ends of the earth I say you are black and the blackness that you have failed to acknowledge or claim and your failure to love and care is why I this hair is not growing.
