“I don’t know whether I chose to do poetry, more so than I was just writing, and it just turned into this. But I love it, and I never want to stop.” – Tia, 17
How sweet the sound
As the harmony floated about the bellies of slave ships…
So, this fancy-shmancy, whitey-ditey musuem stuck its only black exhibit in the basement.
Look in the mirror, how lovely you are
You take the time in perfecting your nature
Seeing not even a scratch or a scar
Your bright eyes show signs that you’re now mature
I go up to the stage
My hands are clamming and my heart is thumping loudly against my ear drum
I keep my mouth closed by biting my bottom lip,
Anticipating the judge’s first word …
A Wednesday night, during a dinner date with procrastination
Scrolling through YouTube aimlessly when a Buzzfeed video
in my recommended reads, “People Try Kylie Jenner’s Ramen.”
I am a human.
I am an independent student, a visionary,
A feminine writer, driven and smart.
Some would say I am “passionate.” I would say I am “outspoken”…
Over the past 8 years, I have gathered that legends don’t explain themselves.
Over the past 8 years, I have seen black pride spread out amongst the 50 states in waves of melanin love and afro acceptance…
Flowers must first crack through their seeds in order to reach the light, and that takes effort, but it happens naturally as a cycle of life.
I’d say so does our growth.
The sun leaves goodnight kisses like a mother does to her child. The breeze dances across the water’s surface and the waves perform an endless routine that they’ve been practicing for quite a while now.