The shadow has no face, she is every
revlon model that women have chased,
the shadow whispers that sex is survival of the thinnest
its a mainstreaming that doesn't serve our best interests,
tell you you are ugly, tell you how you aint pristine,
and then go round telling you how to fix it with Maybelline.
The shadow stalks the gurl, drinking in her innocence,
This gurl trembling before each new day,
this gurl trembling and afraid with each sunrise,
this gurl who finds the cloak woman too heavy to don most days,
this gurl trying to tread on her dreams when the water feels low,
with the shadow at her heels, ebbing her purity and disrupting the flow,
into woman hood, she enters it with her head bowed.
Young gurl I want you to know me, to hear me,
to know me in moments like this, moments of reflections,
moments of acceptance, and moments of celebration.
You should never put your heart in mind's position,
Gurl, you should hold womanhood in a high esteem
you deserve to wear the monarch like banner,
because it carries easy like sun in summer.
I am a woman and I enjoy it, try it sometime,
disentangle your gurl from the shadow and see
how brightly she shines.