Casting away things that were
seen as the way to be. Hair be placed
this way, no can't put those
colors together. All a look that
is meant to be, have to please,
look tells a story of who you are
but more of the daughter they
raised you to be. A name
holds you to an identity other
than your own. A name they've
worked hard to have, they
raised me in their world of
what life should and is to be.
The right hair for the properness
of the days, hair straight and brushed.
But little do they know the harsh
glasses are my own with
bracelets of color or lockets holding
a promise or the clutch purse to
hold onto with all of me inside.
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