Freedom, culture, history.

I wear my locs not as a fad/ but I’m glad to be cultured.  
I don’t need another person’s hair in mine/ 
to fool the blind/ when I have my own kind.  
I’m not white/ so why does my hair 
have to be burned into submission to be right?
What is forgotten is the truth/ 
that every culture has had happy roots/ 
the bible even makes mention in Numbers chapter 6.
Just like the numbers of brothers and sisters 
that take the vow to let go of the instruments/ 
that depict how black we can’t seem to be anymore.  
Like the Shiva, I now mourn.
Not everyone understands the reason/ 
some just doin’ it for a season/ 
I need to have my mind free/ my head clear/ 
my heart opened for the ones scopin’.
My antennas of truth/ the roots that GOD produced/ 
not Revlon or Dark n Lovely/ 
I’m naturally happy to be nappy.
Sorry I don’t have European straight hangin’ down my back/ 
I like the attention My locs attract.  
The natural beauty of a sistah on duty/ 
with caramel skin/ a serious smile/ 
an open mind/ and simple style.  
I ain’t knockin’ the artificial crew/ 
with fake nails, hair and attitude/ 
I just like to be true to who I was born to be/ 
expressin’ my heritage naturally.
Natural is comin up strong and fast/
perms and weaves are runnin’ out of gas.  
Some in the black community are finally seeing the truth/ 
straight hair, low cuts, synthetic strands of contraband 
are now being replaced with tight balls of curls/ 
thick wavy swirls and cords that stretch out roots of life.

I wear My locs to express my interest in the history of my culture 
and to represent my journey to freedom from THEIR prototypes.