The Kink in my Hair is Black

She sized me, more like a pile of trash,
I felt diminished, more of crushed,
But he grabbed me, I think I blushed,
Either way, I wanted to dash,
Run from the hands of an impostor.

She said, use the cream you'll look better,
Your hair looks almost sweet but just bitter,
Look more like her and the origin just filter,
If you try this look, your days will be brighter,
Me was not enough for them.

A Beyonce or a Rhianna is what they were to create of me,
In a world of democracy I could not once feel free,
Drowned in discomfort to be devoured by the whales of the sea,
My voice trailed to silence and I wanted to flea,
To a world I would be visible and audible.

You can't fit for cover page just yet,
Something about standards I'd not met,
My mirror however had contrary aims to set,
Each day I looked forward to seeing my pet,
Snuggle he fur and feel a sense of comfort.

Enough can only be taken in by sponge,
I decided no one could straighten the kink in my hair,
My bulbous nose was an accessory of my black skin,
My wide eyes a perfect fit for my big heart.
Conformable in my skin, I walked out of the closet,
The light was eye damaging but I stood out like a third nipple.
Magic only took embracing me comfortably