Tell me your secret,
Of how you’ve sustained for this long.
Teach me to be strapping,
Like your ancestors taught you.
This country has given you pain,
You’ve given it youth.
It rests upon your shoulders,
As it cries, deep into the night.
It excuses, testimonial
Excuses from the unjustified.
Your Mahogany skin rightly
Enriched, made to withstand
The strongest currents.
Your natural brown hair,
Beautiful, matted, and of its own.
I’ve been around for generations, and
Not many have lasted quite your way.
When the world has let you down,
You’ve remained in confidence,
Competence, and patience too.
The way you manage,
In a world, so lost and adrift.
It will only worsen,
this I am sure, so
I’d really like to survive, like you,
little black girl.
Dom S. Flagg