Keep Your Hate to Yourself
By: Keyara Fleece
(RBU Join Date: 06/15/2010)
I shutter when they come around me
They walk past, and I pretend I don’t see
That their only motive is to cut me down
Like an old, and somewhat dead oak tree
They don’t know, however, that I am not dead
That the destruction of me is all in their head
I’m a strong black woman, and cut if you want
Axe, hammer and saw until your hands are red
My life is mine, not yours to determine
I’ll go to church and hear the sermon
But in the end my God and me
Will be together, that’s for certain.
5 comments:
Great conviction in this. It reflects not so much the death of patience as it does a hell-bent unwillingness to let anything push it that far to begin with.
Excellent job! This poem communicates a powerful message.
very clever writing - nice!
The jackals and the jackasses. Let them bray on. We don't have to pay attention to them.
Wow Fallen monkey, exactly. I like that my poem was paired with this story, clever editors we have here. Thanks everybody! I really appreciate the feedback.
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