The brave face
I wear is never washed
It stinks with sweat
my mother’s and mine
She taught me how to put it on
to fit my wobbly bones
to be the face that you would know
My brave face
has a smile
it lasts for thirty seconds
and plays back after a minute
It belongs to my family
my brave face
I owe it to them
and to my children
the ones I planned to have with you
But you think I do not feel
You should see my eyes buttoned on
my brave face
my brows frown like a powerless child
to remind you that
I am tough
I could show you my face now
how it’s stained with blood
And you would realize
my brave face is what you want to love.
Nana Nyarko Boateng (20th century) Ghana
Source: AfroWomenPoetry
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