This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at Savannah chapter.
One story, no garage: home,
four walls decorated by a
brown couch set. Close
to the soul, visualize the Cola
sunny weather sprinkled with clouds
–brown bodies running around in
our happiness state of mind; our mother,
Casandra, her short curly hair kinky
and dark-brown as the cocoa bean
–her wave of hello out to the passing
neighbors, her gentle grace; Joshua
a Dollar General loaded water-gun,
dancing through the sun rays;
my sister, laughing as she twirls
her fingers in the brown kingdom upon
her head, she’s in love with her crown.
And so, the girl I was: semi-scrawny and
painted in brown.