Pardon Me, My Child...! ! Poem by Milova Matthias

Pardon me my child,
That, I am made of black!
Yes, of black
But I am Africa
And my heart isn't dark!

Look look, my palms are but fair
And the sole of my feet likewise
So tarry not to embrace this love
And treat this black with care
For black surely isn't dark!

Pardon me my child, my love
That the love you found was black with radiant eyes
And passionate heart, enfilled with nothing but lovely lines.

Oh! enemy of black! ye that eats the soul from within
Be thou now a trance from my past, and a myth
For whenever the past calls, I let it go into voicemail
Since it has nothing to offer, nothing to say!

Because black or fair, we are both made of sands,
And of dust and water taken from this grounds.
Black itself is sweet beauty that naturally shoves
Pray soulmate finders, stick with this colour of love!