Integrity Score 155
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The curls of my kinky hair, my nose, my full lips, my broad hips and round buttocks!
My beautiful dark chocolate skin…it clothes me, it embraces me and tells me who I am.
You stole Black history, to design and justify your perfectly racist society.
By your education, I was brainwashed and slumbered many years in ignorance.
Now, I no longer sleep.
I rise and I wipe the tears of bloodshed, plunder and rape from my eyes.
Yet still I cough and sputter, from the choking smell of your gunpowder.
* I don't know who is the original writer of this poem. We have many versions of this in many countries in Africa. It talks about our angst and our anger. The pain and pathos. Fill me in with your thoughts. I will be waiting for that.