Friday, December 30, 2011

Vintage Poetry: I AM

even when I wanna be
someone or something else
i beg to be what i should be
and work to fix what i am
I am
i am worthy of love
i am meant to be happy
i am not perfect
i am constantly needing
i am always me

needing a man
too much
when needing to be both
woman and man
but confused on
what attributes belong
when she grew up
not knowing what it means
to be a man
never knowing a man's true love
but only having had
her trust in men shattered
from the beginning of life

forced to be both
because being a woman
signifies being weak
in a world where
being the beast of burden
is passed down through generations
and gladly accepted
and nobody else understands
but always ready to
pile on the pain

from a long line of
mules of the world
caring for all those around you
sacrificing all of yourself
to better them
being the have nots
to make sure they all have

always looking perfect
but it's all on surface
hiding inside
hiding behind habits
hiding behind all the wrong choices
suffering in silence
dying internally
but somehow looks good
enough to be every man's dream

a dream constantly fading
never attainable
allows herself to be caught
yet retains elussiveness
the enigma that
is this Black woman
for she has no match
and those who get her
are no good for her
but her heart bleeds
leaving so many broken in her wake
she settles
and loves for love's sake
never being able to discern
what's good for her
and what makes her more destructive

and she takes it
she takes all of it
and learns how not to cry
being used
being taken
being lied to
being built up
being torn down
being idolized
being punished
taking his tantrums
taking his neglect
taking his complaints
taking his shortcomings
taking his pain
taking taking his expectations
neglecting her own
ever apologizing
for even possessing them

wise beyond her years
mother-load of perpetual knowledge
that everyone else
has automatic access to
but her
at such a young age
she's done, seen
and been through so much
but the trail of tears
seems to never end
so there's no chocie
but full-steam ahead
satisfaction is impossible

she never asks for anything
and wonders why she gets nothing
no matter how many's around her
she's forever alone
but can't get caught up
on herself
because those she loves
matter so much more
even if that love
is not mutual

a fighter
always struggling
barely surviving
but surviving still
never knowing exactly how
and definitely not why

she is not plastic
she is not impossible
she is real
she exists
she begs to exist
and she begs to be understood
she begs to be needed
she begs for the stress
and pain to go away
but there's never rest
for this woman's work
MY work
is never done


See the original post here: http://www.drytear.net/index.php?showtopic=23402&hl=

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