Trials of a black slave.

She is called black, dirty, different in shade, a contrast to the fair skinned beauty, they call her thick, and poke on the rolls of fat
spread along her sides like tides, with hair like a tangled mop sitting atop her head, with generations of caked sacrifices hiding under her calloused hands


All she has is her smile which encloses brown and yellow stained teeth, no not because of tobacco or kola nuts, but dirty with shame and disgrace, oh those big brown eyes that shined with hope and housed buckets of sorrow


For they condemned her to standing under the coconut tree, shouting, tho art unclean, unfit to sit amongst us, but alas they forgot whose stain she bore on the brown dirty dress that hung off her shoulders.

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