Your hair is your glory,

But fake hair is another story.

Many people praise your extensions,

But they fail to mention

The roots and edges

Which look like hedges

Whose roots are receding

From the ground for lack of water.

For chemicals have placed things out of order.

These man-made concoctions

Cause unnatural stresses

Upon the natural perfection

That God abundantly blesses,

Notwithstanding man’s reckless behavior.

But the Lord continues to be our savior;

He will even save black women

From their own rejection

Of the wonderful perfection

That he so carefully created

As their growing crown of splendor.

No matter how hard they continue to hinder

God’s divine and beautiful creation

By seemingly harmless manipulation,

God uses their own sisters,

With their afros, braids, twists, and locks,

To unlock black minds lost within a white box—

A box that contains a history of oppression.

These enlightened black women have begun the lesson

That the “big chop” is more than about

Just cutting of the hair, or the style you wear,

It is about baptism of the spirit and mind.

It helps blacks to loosen the ties that bind

Their unique and God-given ethnic traits

From the clutches of their own unique self-hate.

 Read the essay that inspired this poem.

I say, hey, dear Mother Africa,
Sing your sad, sad song.
Tell them how you gave them life
And how they do you wrong.

Tell them, Mother Africa.
Tell them, sweet mother of all.
If given the truth again and again,
Maybe they’ll hear your call.

Your lighter children left the cradle.
They journeyed far and wide.
But your darker sons and daughters
Stood proudly by your side.

Their appreciation of life
Was one of humble sophistication.
The fragile beauty of the land
Complimented the wisest of civilizations.

The natives cultivated the land,
And, likewise cultivated their minds.
Many of the diverse cultures
Were artistic, skilled and refined.

Yes, dear Mother Africa,
Sing your tune of irony.
It’s funny to be called “noble savages.”
When you’re the epitome of humanity.

Tell them, Mother Africa:
While the natives were clothed like men,
Their white brothers were still living in caves
And running around in animal skins.

But that is just one example.
There are hundreds of comparisons.
There is much more to be learned of Africa
And the story of her sons.

Sing on, child of genesis.
Sing your sad, sad song.
Tell them how you gave them life,
And how they do you wrong.

Eventually the barbarians returned,
Beating down the ocean with ominous ships.
They came with savagery in their hearts,
And guns on their hips.

Yes, oh Mother Africa,
Tell your woeful tale.
Reveal how they raped your lands
Of gold, and diamonds as well.

They did not even realize
That they were robbing their original mother.
But the greatest tragedy of all,
Was how they treated their darker brothers.

You tell them, Mother Africa—
How they put the natives in chains—
How they forced different peoples to foreign lands.
The treatment was quite inhumane.

Let them know, dear Mother Africa—
How they broke up families—
How they broke the spirit of a man,
Robbing him of humanity.

Tell them, Mother Africa!
Spare no mercy! Reveal their sins!
Tell how women and children were raped
By the brutal and cruel white men.

 
Many are so ignorant,
They don’t even realize their brothers’ resentment.
Many are oblivious to the tale
That underlies the feelings of discontent.

Many would like to hide the guilt
With a plea of innocence.
Others attempt to veil the deceit
With a facade of ignorance.

Sing, oh Mother Africa!
Sing, again and again!
Tell your white sons to scrutinize history
And truly make amends.

Tell them that they have faltered
With the stonewalling and half solutions.
In order for this country to survive,
There must be understanding and complete conclusions.

So sing, dear Mother Africa.
Sing your sad, sad song.
Tell them how you gave them life,
And how they do you wrong.

Every Sunday, you hear the Good News

Among like-colored faces in the pews.

Does not your soul feel somewhat amiss

In your holy temple of monochrome bliss?

The Lord’s church—a sanctuary of piety—

Has become a reflection of an ugly society.

Racism can be a subtle sin,

But it will cause you to lose your soul, my friend.

To God’s will, are you truly committed?

Or by Satan’s deceit, have you been outwitted?

The place where you strengthen your spiritual education

May be Satan’s greatest tool to cause segregation.

Racial division lives within this worldly theocracy,

But the Lord may see it as shameless hypocrisy.

“A house divided, cannot stand.”

The principle is simple, yet the wisdom escapes man