Let me worry..

It's another Monday again,
Another Monday in Lagos,
Where I was born and bred,
Where I'll not be left alone.

They roll their eyes when I speak,
They say my accent is fake.
Don't I have a right?
After 6 months in the UK?

My dressing is their priority,
Their eyes keep staring.
I'm not a whore,
It's what I want to wear!

Back then, they called me 'Sister',
My flowing skirt confused them.
The length has been reduced,
Can I be left alone?

Brazilian, Peruvian or Indian,
It's my hair! It's my money!
Stay calm!
The source of the money is mine to worry.

My heels should not bother you,
It's for my legs to worry.
Yes, I can't walk in them,
But I'll get used to it.

They say I'm a talkative,
Next, I'm a snub.
It's no fault of mine,
Maybe it's in my genes.

It doesn't have to please you,
The junks in your head are waiting,
Leave me to what I want!
I'll rather be left alone.