Black Poetry : The Cycle Continues

poeticbliss

Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Apr 29, 2002
14
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Carried her in my belly for nine months
Worked two jobs only for needs not for wants
Labor pains came like thunder
My mind caught between anger and wonder…
Then beautiful black baby born
Africa tattooed across her neck
Heart beating strong
Eyes that could do no wrong
And the cycle continues
Daddy didn’t want the responsibility
Even though this wasn’t his first but one of three
Tight lips wrapped against my breast
Tiny fist lay folded
Soft heart beating upon my chest
All while daddy’s out getting his freak on
Lies unfold, love untold
Words spoken both harsh and cold
And the cycle continues
Cigarette smoke circles around my ceiling
And I’m overwhelmed with the feeling
That this is getting old
He had the nerve to tell me that I didn’t want her to have a daddy
Because, I never had one
I still don’t understand his philosophy but,
Maybe that’s because he only got a GED
****, I’m sorry
This is a poem so maybe I should have put that more eloquently
But, isn’t that one of the things he taught me
Never bit your tongue; always speak your mind
So, I’m keeping true to that
And if you ask me…
The real cause of the break up was the fact that
He didn’t want to be apart of a family
But, rather run the streets with his hommies
Shooting the breeze
Smoking some trees
Talking about how good it feels to be free
But, let me tell you something just because you’re not with me
Doesn’t mean that you’re free
You locked in a padded prison and your mind is in chains
And the cycle continues
Beyond silly street games
Inside this prison there aren’t any numbers or walls
The streets knows no names
But, when the lights go down it’s all the same
You’re locked in a cell with invisible chains
And the cycle continues
Now, I’m not trying to curse you and or wish you any pain
All I’m doing is speaking the truth
Calling it out by name
You chose the wrong path
Your grass will never grow green
Until you take responsibility for your little black queen
So stop singing me sad stories
Yeah, they were interesting in the beginning
But, your psychological ******** is really starting to bore me
And your nine inches
No longer interests me
So, get up off your knees
And stop begging me please
I can no longer take your blues
I have to move on with my life
So, stop living in the past
Or the cycle will continue.
 

shaz

Well-Known Member
REGISTERED MEMBER
Apr 6, 2001
1,443
1
maryland
Occupation
business/management
I two have a GED and sometimes
Yearn to be free
But the look in by babies faces
When I come home and they run and grab my knees screaming
Daddy daddy
Keeps me grounded in my greater destiny
NOW
Sometimes it aint easy being me
But what kinda man would I be if I simply
Walked away and pretend to be free
Just like
Like my daddy did me
Now I anit mad no more you see
Forgiveness has freed me of animosity
But the decisions my daddy made have cost him his
DIGNITY
And dignity is the one thing every man needs
If they ever wish to be truly free
Living day by day for a destiny
That is so much
Greater then me


Now I can’t pass judgment on another mans house and the decisions he makes, but as for me and my house I need for my kids to know me as daddy (by any means necessary).
 

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