![\"queen_Fotor\"](\"http:\/\/www.gadflyonline.com\/home\/wp-content\/uploads\/2015\/02\/queen_Fotor.jpg\")
<\/a><\/p>\nQueen<\/strong><\/p>\n Looks everywhere. Smile frowns. That\u2019s Not Love<\/strong><\/p>\n Wake up in the middle of the night Fighting over flirtatious comments being Spare me the pain, migraines, the severe bags under my eyes My nail polish, black hair dye, or the smell of Viva La Juicy, Not knowing our anniversary or how long You, me\u2014this isn\u2019t love, Hello, my name is Kierra Ojulo, and I am a Junior at Stony Brook University. I enjoy writing unique poems during my spare time. Writing poems puts my feelings into perspective. It’s a positive escape from the real world for me. Even though my major is Health Science, I will continue to write poems and explore my creativity.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" Looks everywhere. Smile frowns.
\nThey don\u2019t know what to think of her dark brown skin.
\nIs something unknown? Over here she\u2019s different: she stands
\nOut. They don\u2019t want to be friendly with her or let
\nHer in because she doesn\u2019t look like them.
\nShe\u2019s tall\u2026dark as a desolate jaguar.
\nShe might hurt us or take our belongings.
\nAlways skeptical; it\u2019s like she\u2019s not a human being.
\nUnfair treatment\u2014
\nBlink faces, angry stares, and lighter complexions everywhere; that\u2019s not
\nThe way to go; she\u2019ll overcome it; her looks won\u2019t change; she\u2019s Content with how God made her.
\nShe doesn\u2019t care to be the same.
\nHer being different
\nIsn\u2019t so bad after all; that beautiful black Ethiopian queen dressed in golden jewels,
\nShe\u2019s so lively, blissful, confident, blessed\u2014
\nThat she me I am
\nQueen.<\/p>\n
\nLooking for a charismatic text, being upset,
\nHaving anxiety because he hasn\u2019t called you.
\nThat\u2019s not love.<\/p>\n
\nLeft on social networks, having to respond
\nLike you\u2019re not responsible for someone else\u2019s temperament.
\nThat\u2019s not love.<\/p>\n
\nBecause of my lack of sleep wondering where you are. I don\u2019t
\nWant to do this anymore\u2014not saying anything when something has changed,
\nMeaning physically and emotionally.
\nThat\u2019s not love.<\/p>\n
\nNot seeing where you\u2019re wrong,
\nOr noticing my dark puffy eyes when I cry over you.
\nThat\u2019s not love.<\/p>\n
\nWe\u2019ve been together, where we first met,
\nMy favorite song, not even my middle name.
\nIt\u2019s as painful as a baby\u2019s first piercing.
\nThat\u2019s not love.<\/p>\n
\nSo let\u2019s not pretend for it to be.
\nLet\u2019s move on so we can finally say
\n\u201cThat\u2019s love.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n
\nThey don\u2019t know what to think of her dark brown skin.
\nIs something unknown? Over here she\u2019s different: she stands
\nOut. They don\u2019t want to be friendly with her or let
\nHer in because she doesn\u2019t look like them.
\nShe\u2019s tall\u2026dark as a desolate jaguar.
\nShe might hurt us or take our belongings.
\nAlways skeptical; it\u2019s like she\u2019s not a human being.
\nUnfair treatment\u2014<\/p>\n