Who am I?
Am I a sinner?
Or an angel?
Am I a boon?
Or just a burden?
I know they love me,
And that they care,
They’re a reason I’m even here.
But why can’t I bring smile on their faces?
Why can’t they feel proud of me?
Why being beautiful is this necessary?
In this modern world,
Blemish can hide a beautiful heart,
Flesh can conceal confidence,
Being black is a crime,
For which the only punishment is humiliation.
I ask you, “Who are YOU?”
Who are you to criticize beautiful hearts?
Who are you to question God’s creations?
Who are you to scrape away the pride of me?
He, the creator of this world,
He, who gave you life,
He, who gave you the ability to think,
He, who gave you voice!
Has created me.
Created me to concur the world.
There will come a day,
A day when all will see,
The beauty of a soul, than that of a face.
Soon will come that day of justice,
When you, the one who laughs,
Will contemplate beautiful hearts.
That will be the day!
The day, they will smile,
Being proud, for creating me.
And I’ll bring that day soon,
Proving myself to be a boon.