A Queen…not one to be used to the point
That the soles of her heart peal back the seams of her sneaks
Not necessarily prissy…but womanly enough to give her spouse the respect he needs
Needless to say she is above average see
She soars above the sky skinny dipping in the blessing of her life
Bare chested, she stands a God
TRUTH revealed the aspects that make her genetics be realized
But breast are not what make women come to life
But they do
Feed the spirit that struggle out of her womb
And as a woman she rises from the tomb of being a ho, a b*tch, a slut, a milk truck
Or anything else that deflates her power, her sacredness
And if she has ever baked Pumpkin Pie on a fall day
Sweetness would not refer to the opening of her legs but to the kindness of her fingertips
Her pride and demand for respect trips those who attempt to belittle her, talk… ..out of ….turn to her
And you best believe her sistahs got her back
Wiping their hands clean of dirty plates left in the sink.
She’s not a dish washer or a necessarily a “housewife”
But a lady who can be multipalllllyy dynamic
Divide 6 by 6 and she can still be the square root holding down the family
Holding down the culture, laying a foundation
And because she was so highly honored, a legend of dignity
Museums would be the only place to persevere her life of intellectuality
Exhibits would be the mouth of a nation
spreading word of this Queens Greatness
The Civil War couldn’t even immolate her face
She’s a Cannon detonated from her ancestors grace.
She’s a Lady
Now we have to envision the image of a man.
What would that be?