Dear steemian friends, I wrote this poem with the Africans mothers love, pains, virtue and struggles in mind. Please read through and rate the poem.
BlackArt
My elegant African Mother
The pains you endured to shell me
Who's foundation my roots stand on
The epitome of my Africa heritage
Like a flower you nurture me to grow
My mother who cuddle and sing my crying eyes to bed
In who's touches my crys wane into smiles and laughter's
You thought me to love, learn, explore and make Mama Africa stand tall
My Mother is black
She's strong
My beautiful and heroic Africa goddess
Her black melanin skin radiant vigour
The castle of the African husbands and fathers
My oldest friend, my best friend and my succor.
My only friend who wants me to do better than herself
Will I ever grow too old to be my mother's daughter?
Our friendship illuminate eternity
The wind don't appreciate you much
But as long as man is made from dust, there is hope in the grave.
I love you Mama Africa
I wrote this, Ok it's poor? I will improve
