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African Women Don't Cry

For seven days, she took several seats

as she watched the world pass her by

every unfinished tear, incomplete

because they said African women don't cry

She had a smile finer than the Mona Lisa painting

Beauty delicate and fair and maintaining

But you have never seen her cry

and not once have you asked why

Flaws reconstructed on a white canvas

Laid bare, exposed to the world

Like a fine incrusted diamond

Every single strand of beauty that curled

Woven together, a bond of thread

Each hair counted

Each pigment caressed

Nonetheless, she is God’s greatest creation

I see the stars in her complexion

And the perfection of the moon in her eyes

But I also see pain, and a little bit of rain

a black drain with a plain chain

She's been crying for years...

So perhaps she's been hurting in silence

Because she can’t access the help to seek, to speck

After all, a strong black woman can’t look so weak

Should this be her burden to bear

If it’s the price to pay

Should she go and speak her mind

or hold her tongue and stay

African women don’t cry

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