The Other Side of Vanity
On the other side of vanity is pride
but not the deadly sin of unearned
grandiosity or haughty laurels some may
wish to place on my head as if I sprinted,
twisted, or punched my way to Olympic gold.
I have seen this pride beam in the face
of brown girls who see my license plate
and in the voice of black men who stop me
in parking lots to shake my hand and call
me sister and the tiny hand of a little boy
who has touched the coarse hair of the president
and now knows it feels like his own.
This pride comes from knowing that one
can play by their rules and win.
~Pamela Taylor © 2013
A Poet's Double Life 
November 30, 2013 at 13:22
I love your work Pamela. This one gave me a full two arms of chills recognizing something I might not ever have known had you not pointed it out this way. Moves me to tears.
“the tiny hand of a little boy
who has touched the coarse hair of the president
and now knows it feels like his own.”
November 30, 2013 at 16:12
Thanks Anora! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed these poems.