Of Tragedy and Things You Think of Afterwards The news speaks of crimes done on the 9th of today like it was yesterday Worry stings baseball's not enough to soothe your fears of a world gone mad cries of God's children say 'terrorists will pay'...and with their lives too an eye for an eye and I ask what this means for me A black woman pondering on her future and what this means for my family my friends People on the verge of nervous breakdown but maybe your cold corona keeps you cooler A foreign movie imitating life a woman caught in emotional strife 'the man I was f-ing turned out to be a shi-ite terrorist...I had no idea til a plane blew up...saw his picture on the news' Heartbreak blues baby does it make you want to be with someone, anyone cause they're saying it's all gonna end? but not tomorrow Uncertainty clashed with sorrow a hopeful end sunray from a poet's pen No Yella Girl Ha ha ha ha you jus a yella girl a high yella girl and you ain't cute how Black is you? how Black you gon be? Yo mama white, is yo mama white? She's so pale she jus about white These are the endless tauntings from little school girls who seemed to live to drive a sister often I fought back not with my fists but with my dignity and holding my head up high not that I was better but I screamed from the inside know me for me, for my insides, not what I look like but no one heard so I played the role, often a confused one as many Black girls sometimes do I hid myself often wandering into the depths of who I really was who I am with my pen and my pad but see only God really knew the depths of me and who I really was inside See I was freer than the plaid socks around my ankles and I was freer than the braids with ribbons at the ends that my mother put in my hair And I was freer than those sad notes I listened to from Sade's Is it a Crime I, I could relate to Sade's melancholy words from her lovelorn lips to the innocent peak in my ears I understood the notes of this heart torn yella girl so I journeyed through many phases and friendships asking, Is this when I am free from other people's perceptions of my outward externity and even perceptions of myself? As a girl must grow up I found ways to turn my melancholy notes into freedom songs See I hummed that yella away to John Coltrane's Love Supreme I danced that yella away to the rhythm of djembe drums I loved that yella away for the hearts of friends who have crossed my path I taught that yella away to be a guardian for children And I wrote that yella away in poems, letters, stories, essays, tributes and plays to hear my  voice my own unique voice and make a new picture of me I found what prejudices we have against one another for complexion and color just makes no sense I am half of a dark-chocolate man and half of a vanilla-peach woman and yellow or brown or tan or red are within a brilliant spectrum of who we are For all you yella girls out there who have suffered bruised ego for those who ask you who are you and why do you look the way you do? tell them Like a butterfly I represent a unique and divine creation of God, one of  many colors who cannot be labeled or controlled and bound by your limiting perceptions and lack of self love With that I am free to be my beautiful, Brown me (C) 2001 DuEwa M. Frazier
	DuEwa M. Frazier A New York poet, arts journalist, teacher and dramatic artist, and founder of Lit Noire Publishing.  She says: "I wrote Of Tragedy and Things You Think of Afterwards after reflecting on the sadness and frustration I feel from the events of Sept. 11, and the war that is currently taking place".