Shame

I was always ashamed of my dark-skinned hands, and my dark-skinned feet.

Almost anything that reminded me that I was dark and that I wasn't elite.

I always wore shoes, and painted my nails, always thought I would be prettier if I was fair

And then I met a boy, who held my feet against his chest,

left trails of soft kisses, like a man on a quest

and I, his treasure chest

And my first thought was, what is wrong with this guy? What does he even see in me? I saw a little kid who was too scared, too grim, He saw a woman who was always there for him I saw a girl who thought she didn't deserve anything,

He saw the eyes of his only queen I saw the skin the world didn't like, He saw the love of his life I saw an average person, He saw a god's child I saw these dark-skinned hands and feet, He told me I tasted so sweet

Now don't get me wrong, we don't need a man to tell us we're pretty

But sometimes that one person comes along to treat you like a real lady

Even if he doesn't stay forever, I'll always remember him

as someone who showed me how to love

my dark-skinned hands and feet.