Her long, thick, shiny black hair Fell against her back. Her rich, copper skin Gleamed in the sunlight. Her slender figure outlined, With her soft voluptuous curves. But when she stepped outside, She became a ghostly figure of the night. Nothing more to the people Than a dark, shadowy figure of oppression. But she showed them. As she walked down the street, People made way, Men lowered their gazes in utmost respect. And others whispered, As she held her head up high, With pride in her belief And showed them how oppressed she really was! While they whistled at their women, Looking them up and down as they were pieces of meat to be inspected? She pitied their savage ways. As she walked into the arms of her partner, Her only love, Her husband. Where she was transformed, Into her beautiful self, For only his eyes to see.
by Hena Farooq