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Your charcoal blackness is beautiful
Your charcoal blackness, never mind
Is as wonderful as stars
In a moonless night,
And the genuine lips, ah!
The darkness of your hair
Gives you the look that is
Irreproachably noble.
But today your hair
You direly make it golden
Hanging scintilatingly loose
Like Mrs Bolden's.
Where are the sexy black eyebrows
That make me drool
When your intricate-looking eyes
Meet with my drunk ones?
I used to get jolted by your
Heart-warming smile;
But these faked up lips
Takes my heart away;
Where are the genuine lips
That bewitch me
When i kiss you?
That colouring on your hair,
Those long so called manicured nails, ah,
Not natural pigments; fake you know;
Your nature is not Mrs. Bolden's;
Her nature- only trying
To shield her thin skin
From some ecological detriment,
Her hair need no
Extra-ordinary bleach!
Yet your charcoal blackness
Is impeccably beautiful;
Beautiful moist lips
That always demanded a kiss,
Thick canopy of black hair,
The well-trimmed nails...
But this new vogue of artificial things,
Imported and misconceived,
Cracks the granite in my heart!
