Judgements here, judgements there

You swear you know me through my hairstyles
You swear you know what’s happening in my life
In reality you don’t
Under this braided, cut hair lies a demon called Psoriasis
You would not know what that is now, would you?

I walk into a room your eyeballs grow out of your face. Who do you think you are?
This is how you suppose to style your hair…
I am not my hair if you ask me
Your ignorance will not get me crippled
Get it straight, culture has not to do with it

Empathize with me
While the bloody scalp shatters my joy
A strong woman is my name
Hit me, I remain unbreakable
Put my feet on the ground
Turn my pain into style
Underneath it all, I stand tall

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