She endeavored to erase her fears
Her chastity needed to be firm
Amongst the crowd she craved appreciation
Or a fanciful applaud to endure.
Like a pagan she grew from the soil
But her feets were curdled in froths of dark
Whenever she failed to taste dear victory,
She howled to herself,
She needs her compromising.
But violet were her dreams
And discolored her fractions,
Sour her words
And bitter her artistry.
A girl with a lilac face
Covered in Black History.