Why do you refuse to see your value?
Your beauty? … Your crown?….
Why do you look to a flat screen instead of a mirror to see you?
Why do you not have your own identity?
Why must you see other queens as competition instead of sister?
Why is it ok to be scandalous but embarrassing to stand by your man?
Why do you cry, in the dark, hating who you are, because you fail to measure up to some fake image of perfection?
Why do you hide behind makeup, false lashes and weave? Your hair is beautiful, your eyes are too.
Why do you allow yourself to be seen as nothing more than a pair of boobs, a big butt and a baby maker?
Why Sistah why?
Why is it ok that Sistahs are seen as loud mouthed, brash and unintelligent by the media, and some of us are stupid enough to think it is funny or doesn’t matter?
Why do you choose to fight each other over a man that belongs to neither of you?
Why do you allow yourselves to have so many children out of wedlock, and yet call the man you are shacking with ‘Hubby’?
Why don’t you want more? Why don’t you demand more?
Why Sistah why?
Why do you not read books, but you will read Facebook, Instagram or twitter?
Why is it OK to be called a ‘Bitch’ as long as the word ‘Bad’ is placed in front of it? You’re not a beast so why liken yourself to one?
Why do we call other Sistahs that are not following a stereotype, Bougie or ‘not black enough’?
How black is ‘Black’ enough’?
Why is it ok to be labeled a baby mama and not a mother?
Why? Why? Why?….
Why baby girl do you not know who you are?
Why do you hate the image in your mirror?
Why are you becoming a young woman that is so full of confusion, and despair?
Why Daughter why?……