What more can I do to prove to you,
That I do not need to behoove to you?
That my melanin -
The sublime perfection of my complexion,
My golden protection that God has anointed unto me -
Holds the conversation, with no needed repartee.
I am not obligated to explain to you what you refuse to see.
They do say Ignorance is bliss, but you're jealousy and spite seem to disagree.
But you do know, that I am what you can never be:
Strong, tenacious, and dark rooted like the Buffalothorn tree.
Yet, soft, ostentatious and delightfully splendid like the Waakye bean.
There is divinity in my ethnicity,
Whether you recognize it or not -
But it's not my responsibility, nor my civility,
To inform those who have forgot.
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