Lost Identity

She gazes at her reflection in the mirror

and visualizes a lost identity she wishes

to embrace.

Taking down her Bantu twists, detangling

her locked hair to expose her natural fro.

Pieces of her rich heritage now distorted

with lye that plasters her scalp.

Her skin bleeds from the usage of harsh

chemicals meant to lighten her skin.

A confused Queen with a stifled identity

woven in a stolen look.



She is a product of the fleshy pumpkin that

was uprooted from the soils of Africa.

A rich ancestry bound in chains and made

to trade the long walk across the sea.

Labeled and sold in a world where vanity

and purity collide; to be orchestrated in a

colorful theater where two foes embrace

in a misguided sun dance.



She was stripped of her culture and taught

a new language.

Tongue wagging merrily to a culture she

doesn’t understand.

She adopted a new way of life that cascades

her ethnicity.

Creating new memories in a strange land

and building regrets with strangers.

Defying her adopted customs and swallowing

the shame of defeat in a brain washing ceremony.

A broken record bound in shackled chains.



She was taught to hate and despise her culture,

and customs.

Branded with a tag of ridicule and given a new

name, religion and culture to distinguish her from

her own people.

She became a controversy, a moving contradiction

battling an identity crisis.

Hooked to a system, a victim of mind control.



She is caught in a foreign spider wed, a product

from the fifth generation of slaves.

Mentally challenged, afraid to think and allergic

to reason.

She’s the mute bird in a cage whose movement

is determined by the circumference of the cage.

Dancing to the beats of society and following

the tide. Quick to believe everything she is told.

Denied of her History: A woman with a borrowed

identity. She is a woman with no knowledge of self.



She is the genetically modified pumpkin, watered

and uprooted in a foreign land; constantly primping

her face and hiding behind an artificial external facade.

Roaming through the streets like a lost sheep with

a string of consciousness just to fit in.

Drawing question marks on the palm of her hands

in search of answers.

Dusting the shelves of the archives section in libraries

to understand a history she was never taught.

A rich history of Kings and Queens that transcends

through the plains of Africa.

Flipping through history publications to find a common


A woman out on a limb to reclaim and restore her lost identity.


©FloetryC 2016






Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love poetry...art, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

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