Telling Truths   it

Telling Truths

it's hard..........
it's real hard......
being a woman, 
being a woman in this crazy world, 
being stereotyped, 
being me for life,
being on the other side,
being striped of your pride,
being black, 
being considered less than that,
it's hard being a survivor 
when the script isn't written in your favor, 
but it's alright, 
I wouldnt trade this 
just giving you some insight,
because i still can see, 
see beyond the hardness that's 
mounted in my heart, 
like a dagger, a dart,
causing this condition better known as 
the angry black woman syndrome,
as if you know me to define me like im
some technology,
Oh I wish you could unblind yourself to see, 
but it's alright, 
cause i see through you, 
see the callouses in my hands 
from standing in the arms of labor, 
please dont do me no favors,
I will just talk to my savor, 
and it's alright, 
because i can pray for you too, 
in the midnight hour,
in the rush hour of noon,
in the dawn of the shy sun,
we all came from one,
we yes, black,white,indian,spanish, mixed, and asian,
we are all a reflection,
of wanting and needing,
hope, love, happyiness,dreams, education, and peace 
hatred needs to cease,
That would be progress,
To state what needs to be addressed,
To help heal the feeling of being oppress,
To dance once again like a windy day to a sundress,
I must confess,
you wont know until you walked in these shoes,
felt the pain of these wounds,
awaiting for calmness like the moon,
I wouldnt wish it upon anyone,
The play of these cards,
All I can say again is
It just hard...