Black Poetry : Black Women Cries A Message To God

ASHANTA

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Jan 15, 2003
1,859
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Brooklyn N. Y.
Black Women Cries A Message To God
By Jacqueline Amos


The Lord is my guidance
I shall not fear
He anointed me will love
I walk with the torch of Gods light
Oh God I come to you on bending knees
I carry the scars on my back of this cruel world.
My eyes are full of blood ,
and my children no longer believe
I am the creation of your love.

He leads me to the waters
To clean my wounds,
nobody knows the trouble I have seen.
Only you my God, thank you for bringing me across.
I sing no victim song, I cry rebirth my arms are getting short.
My hair is wooly and my back is strong.
I carried the chains much to long.

Ya though I walk through the battle of no return
I fear not man, but the spirits, which he displays.
God is the ruler of all a not man.
I wear the crown of your love.
They hanged my sons from the trees
My man no longer cries for me.
I his wife who wear his legacy.
Year thou I walk through the shadows of death
My lord my lifeline makes me walk by my self.
I come to you lord on bending knees
Break the chains of my family curse.



Oh how the reflections of a lonely heart,
Breaks all the rules, of a starve love,
Waiting for the phone to ring,
Living though others to be complete,
Oh why self can thy be content with thy self,
Looking for resolutions to fulfill the emptiness inside,
Violating dignity, and self pride,
Wanting to be touch an held,
Crying for closure within the inner hell,
The windows are foggy,
Why must I lye to self.

When I know that the hunger cries to be loved.
Closing doors, when love knocks to be console,
Oh the misery that one continues to embrace,
Smiling faces to deceive the bitterness inside,
Oh I long for the void to be complete.
Self oh how can we be so far apart?

Revenge upon my door, repeating mistakes,
That makes me, hide my face.
Blaming others, for my own mistakes,
Jealousies within, selfishness that centers,
Thy own self of neglect,
No support for my sisters and brothers,
Who need help, self thy own destruct?

I thy self shall raise in the name of rebirth,
I shall take one hand at time,
I shall give thee the love,
And respect in the chapel of my house,
Thy shall never grow,
Until thy clean thy on house.


copywriter 2002

:heart:
 
May blessing be upon the mother of the universe that we may join hand an hand. The Universe cries for the mothers of Gods holy grounds, the incubator of life the link to the life line of man.
The queen must rise up and water the roots of her family tree.
A house divided shall not stand. The words of a thousand voice must now join hand. One God, One Love, One Peace.
Blessed be upon all the children of God.
 

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