The Way I Wear My Slave Hair

The ability to reduce your own genetics

To words and phrases someone else created,
And devour your own culture
With the fuel and ammunition of someone else's hatred--
     How did we fall so far in our purpose?
We let the world embody badness in our image,
Allowed ourselves to be brainwashed
That we turn away from our own reflection and grimace...
We assign attributes to our natural features
Let the world paint it as the poster child for evil
And set the course of our entire existence
On a feature we were born with for a purpose and a reason--
We exist in some vicious cycle,
    breeding self hatred,
For if my hair is but a crown of unkempt shame
Then my skin must be the mark of the devil
Unworthy of beauty or respect or acclaim.
We unwittingly cage ourselves in this box
Of a description falsely forced upon us
But accepted universally--
     this parade of caged souls
We pace; we walk around the world in uneven ruts...
Will we dig ourselves so deep?
Burry our own corpses out on display,
Make a show for the world to enjoy and criticize
While our children sink further
     and further in our decay.
This ability that plaques us--
Stalks us like an epidemic wrought with frailty and death--
Will we break free of its ungrateful shackles
Or cultivate our own demise even in our last breath?

Physical features such as hair should never be symbols of certain attributes. It's ridiculous to say "slave hair" just as it's ridiculous to say black skin is evil skin. [As always this is a specific example; the principle is colorless.]