hey ask me about the stuff I wear
They try to steal my style
.They even stare for a while
They always mention my hair
But my secrets I will never share
Because in life's trial
It's like a store aisle
You have to know what you want that's even if it's there
I know I'm known as the difficult type
But that's what I have to do
I'd rather people not to question
I'm not as bad as the stereotypes
Just know that I'm different than you
I am a black woman
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem