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“A Colored Woman” A Poem By Shumon Jenkins ’18

 I use to love her, a colored woman.

Until the white washed the color off,

And the men were taken out of their lives.

Unrecognizable to the untrained eye.

The love for themselves had died

And us colored men had let it.


We the people, made of the sun’s rays and clay,

Allowed our queens to be treated less than such.

Then we duplicated this behavior,

Manipulating it to our favor,

So we don’t lose our kingship.

Battling for a kingdom that doesn’t even exists.


We learned how to call a woman a bitch,

And she learned how to act like one.

From not knowing what else to be,

Cause when the nut leaves the seed, men do the same.

Doing the same thing as your father?

Things will never change.


What is a woman supposed to do?

When she has to be the mother and the father, to her daughter,

And explain to her that there are still good men out there–but not in here.

Her first male love is nowhere to be found,

So a bitch she becomes, she’s her own daddy now.


Redbone, Yellow Tail, Caramel, but no dark skin?

We love them, but hate the root in which they all exist in.

The blacker the berry, the meaner the fruit,

For the blackest berry knows it has the sweetest juice.


Let your pride be like roots, to the strongest tree.

Grow with it and let your natural hair spread like that of leaves.

Nature has a way of knocking you down,

But Fall eventually turns into Spring.

And when it does blossom, into that sacred flower that you only share with those who love those roots.


Men, we must be the ground in which our women grow from.

We are the root in which the name originates.

We must destroy the foundation that was made by white paint.

Showing them their true colors, melanin is the most beautiful race.


My brothers, we must treat our lovers like our mothers,

Showing the ultimate love and respect of just being there no matter what.

And my sisters, you must see your son in your lover,

For that is the type of man you would want him to be.


See through the illusions, that fog the mind,

Created by lies to monitor mankind created by white minds.

They trying to destroy you, your ethnicity, your culture, they trying to wash your color away,

And make you think you were a mistake.


Well you are not.


You are what you believe yourself to be.

Black is Beautiful.

Brown Is Beautiful.

This isn’t make believe or some damn Maybelline.


This is the closest thing to God.


A Black Woman.

A Brown Woman.

A Colored Woman.

A woman who loves herself enough to know, I am the seed in which the world grew from,

And we, black and brown sons, have to remind them just how much they mean to us.


So I’ll start.


To my beautiful colored women,

You are the strongest beings I have ever seen.

Every man that ever was, or ever will be,

Is because of you.

You are the queens that do not need a joker disguised as a king.

You’re rich skin and powerful minds compliments that internal fire inside,

And I would like to apologize on behalf of colored men everywhere.


I am sorry.


And I promise to be the man you’ve always wanted me to be.

Because you see, I lied before.

I still do love her, a colored woman.


Shumon Jenkins ’18

Posted by on February 11, 2017. Filed under The Week's End. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0. Both comments and pings are currently closed.