Black is Beautiful
black is beautiful
The sun is shining, glowing, reflecting on this black skin,
the sky is beautiful, the sky is black, blacker than this logo we wear, blacker than these eyes that stare, the sky is black, don’t let anyone tell you it’s blue, because black is beautiful too.
The boys are laughing, laughing as they tie their shoes, laughing, as the blackbird flew, laughing, while they sit in the pews, listening to preacher man spew, laughing, because them fubus ain’t new, and they’re laughing because black is beautiful too.
The boys play, they fill their day with joyous pickup games, and faces of gay, they play, because the house is warm and it’s the middle of May, they play, play before the street lights begin to display, they play, they play so hard that goodbye gets tough as they begin to drift away, they play, as everything in their world collapses around them, but they have no clue, they play, because black is beautiful too.
the boys run, they run as the sun bounces on their brown skin, their black coils, their beautiful lenses, as its rays could never shun, they run, run to be first to the finish line, the invisible line down the street, to be the first to defeat, they run, run so fast that the wind may blast and blow, but their hair would never show, they run, away from all their fears, dads belt, mommas shoe, and they run because black is beautiful too.
They smile, they smile because pain may last awhile, but joy, joy is permanent, even when the tears appear in the firmament, they smile, as others words defile because this skin still glows, they smile, smile because they could never walk a mile with me or against me, they smile, smile because the day is new, the sky is too, and they smile, because black is beautiful too.
They rock, rock them new timbs, clothes bagged around them limbs, they rock, rock their set, for goals they’ve met, make a million dollars, so they can holler, don’t you wanna party with a real nigga, they rock, rock their set and make their momma upset, I raised you better than that son, they rock, rock back and forth wishing they could rewind, they rock, back and forth feeling so blue, and they rock, because black is beautiful too.
They shoot, shoot down negativity, shoot down their sensitivity, they shoot, shoot into the chest of White mans distress, they shoot, shoot back at the enemy because all activities outside our clique can’t wait to put a stick in our face, they shoot, shoot their last breath as their words have addressed, and the others have impressed a 10 mm in their chest, they shoot, shoot a movie in a box, where mom begins to rock and scream “why my baby” and stares in shock, they shoot, shoot 6 feet below the ground as the family surrounds, they shoot, as the grief chews into their chests, because black is beautiful too.
They lived because sets don’t define or describe their regret, they lived, lived life blue, souls connected with the moon, and the springs bloom, they lived, day to day, laughing, playing, running, smiling, shooting, now decaying, they lived, lived because from childhood they grew, grew around all his friends, without a clue, they lived, because black is beautiful too, and black isn’t defined by White worlds shine, or stains, saying that community is ghetto, black is beautiful because the sky is black, it’s peaceful, the flowers are black, not deceitful, the world is black, not broken, and theses words are black, not because they attack, but black because. black is beautiful too.
copyright © micah hill 2024
