Black Woman Poem by Hafsat Yunus Ilham

A black woman.
The color of her skin
looks like a burnt Toast
but taste like a creamy Chocolate,
the sweet lingering honey taste.
Bold, it doesn't go Scarlet
and heat from the sun doesn't burn it.

When the breeze blows,
her curly hair's in place
it doesn't ruffles,
challenging the strength of the breeze.
Then she looked at the sun
and I can swear I saw a golden glisten,
radiating to and from the sun!
She is a woman.

A black woman she is.
I am not trying to make her entrance beautiful but,
swinging her well endowed hips,
her bosom bounce.
Wanting to break free
Free from all forms of captivity
From male dominancy to stigma of her community.

She wants to be the logo of freedom.
She wants to be respected
and not irritating
because of the tint on her skin.
She is a limited copy of her edition.
She is a black woman.
A black Woman she is.