Nappy?
Man, sometimes
It takes mom
What seems like forever
To twist, straighten
or braid my hair
See, that’s what mom’s do
Make us presentable
It’s one way they show us
How much they care
So, others won’t
stare
If they dare
‘cause when it comes to mamas
And their children
All had better beware
But, on this day
It was no stranger
Who incurred mama’s wrath
It was pappy, and as a joke
And he called my hair, “nappy”
Now, usually mama
Is of the quiet sort
But on this day
She lost all rapport
She inhaled and ex’d
From one righteous explicative
To the next
Pappy tried to stand his ground
But on my esteem’s behalf
She wore him down
Her hair, super curly,
is the mark of warrior queens
Where only the strongest
Of strong survived
And in her
All remain to be seen
Her hair, liken to lamb’s wool,
Is a badge of honor
A lineage reminder
Of our historical greats
Who in the face of opposition
Held to right
And relentlessly stood
Her hair, nappy, kinky
Or whatever you say
Carries our DNA
And connects us to a past
One survived, and the link
To the blessing of a new day.
Pappy looked past mama
And into my teary eyes
He bid me to come closer
And, lifted me high in to the air
As if to raise me above
My temporary demise
I meant no harm by my words
I mean, to think your hair
Is other than beautiful
Would be absurd
I love it every kind of way
From afro-puffs to beads and braids
And, I respect the fact
That mom does it most every day
So, whether it’s straight or “nappy”
Doesn’t matter what I or anyone says
You are beautiful
You are intelligent
You are compassionate
An incarnate of God herself
So, wear it well
And let all who choose to stare
Your unique and beautiful hair
is a crowning glory
to you and our ancestors’ story.
Take that to the bank
And cash it on Pappy.
A
Simpy Fab Poem©
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rights reserved
