You Don’t Know Me

You don’t know me, my ancestry.
The reason why my hair is nappy.
Each nap is a story of our
Pride and glory,
How we struggled as slaves,
How cornrolls got their name;
Would you bother to ask,
If you were concerned about our past?
I am that little girl whose smile could light up the world
Had to go back to the back because Blacks don’t use that.
You don’t know me for hundreds of years
Blood shed, children fear.
Because, if you knew me
You would see that you are me!