Do black tears fall from brown faces
    and beautiful cocoa eyes?
Can deep pain be disguised?
    Hear a word to the wise – 
there is no weakness in our cries;
    for only God knows 
how hard we fight and try,
    how we seriously strive,
while constantly upholding
    bold links to our old pride;
facing hidden foes
    from whom we cannot hide;
reviving the broken pieces
    of our soul that dies
when it is slain
    enduring psychic pain
and then laid aside.
    Do black tears fall from brown faces
onto moist cocoa skin?
    Do they feel like the same tears
cried before
    now cried again?
If I turn my wet face to the wind
    and grin
will that somehow change the spin – 
    cut loose of loss and capture win?
The analysis and reasoning begin
    to wear thin, over time, in my mind.
Do black tears fall from brown faces
    late at night,
mostly hidden from common sight
   until the next day’s light
pierces the secret veil
   and exposes a rejuvenated sorrow,
longing for a brighter tomorrow?
    Or do black tears fall from brown faces
tenderly kissed by the sun
    before the journey had begun
in a sacred place
    where the salt of the earth
wait for the season of rebirth?
    Do black tears fall?