Her in her golden hair

I thought to me God wasn’t fair

At her I’d admire and stare

For what kind of beauty made with care

Her smile scented with love

That she strolls with her chest above

With her beauty embedded with no filter

Walking like a shimmering glitter

As she passes makes she the strands,

those of my hair stand out on my hands

With goosebumps I shake

And from my vision I wake

Glanced at myself in the mirror

And realized that God made no error

Wearing my fro like a crown

Black but rich and brown.

Inside my heart kindness he rested

And gave me a title blessed

For to me beauty was invested

And the insecurities I nested

Poem by:

Thovhedzo Faith Libago