Why am I not pretty?
I’m not enough to fit under your mold?
Am I not white enough to get the role?
Or English enough to be your love?
I don’t have small blue eyes,
Mines are big, dark and with a coffee mark
They’re common for the tastes of your people
“Lack imagination” said the richest bidder.
My body’s too vulgar to be a palace’s girl
But behind the curtains is all men’s buffet
My skin color does not belong here
Too brown and mysterious to be your forever being
Hidden between four walls to be at your service
With no pay or right to raise my thinking
If I dare to speak, to live, or escape
It’ll be the last time I’m allowed to breathe
They say this land is for all men’s freedom
But it’s only for their kind, not the foreigners.
Those like me will be treated like animals
With no right to read, write or even scream
Only work for their banal affairs
Even living in places they wants us to stay
Our voice has never been heard
All we wanted is the freedom you’ve always proclaimed!
It’s 2019, we’ve come a long way
Many things have changed and we’re all aware
Of the goods and the wrong, the bad and the rights
And now you want to take it all back.
By: Carmen Angélica Figueroa Guzmán