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AFRICA RACISM

MAMA’S POT

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Obroni,

If you need to know

Why my skin is coal

I’ll bless you now

With some knowledge bow

***

Mama cooked me in her special pot

With fire from the sun

And work from her womb

Turning me in and turning me out

***

Yes, mama cooked me in her special pot

I knew no cot

Under the motherly palm

Whose roots are pillars unbreakable

***

Nanny palm fronds lay to welcome me

As I roasted and roasted

In love so divine

To burn the gems of my delicate skin

***

I was covered in black which the bright sun fears;

The melanin that none understands

A conundrum it is

But mama cooked me in her pot

To protect me and give me options

***

I could be like you if I go by creams

But my mama cooked me in her special pot

A special pot made like a priceless zone

By God Almighty

And I’ll never trade that for anything

Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2015

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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