Woke is an understatement of my awareness
Heightened senses bleed into the recesses of my my mind
No sleep for the wicked was the most ingenious rhyme
Stepping into the crowd trying to blend in hoping not to be seen
The spotlight beams nearly blinding I duck and hide
The masses point me out giving me up without a second thought
I look down at my feet shifting and my palms sweating
I didn't ask for these gifts and talents nor did I ever want to feel special
I swallow my fears and push the doubts no scream no shouts
I raise my right fist the people stare I raise it higher and match their glares
I am a proud black woman hear.. me .. roar
We will not be quiet anymore
- Author: KomfortKorner ( Offline)
- Published: January 7th, 2022 05:26
- Comment from author about the poem: For all of my fellow sisters tired of conforming to the idea of what society says you are, step out and BE who you are!
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 11
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Comments2
Fist bump, always be proud of whom you are and where you come from know yourself worth and where you want to go in life, love the poem.
'The masses point me out giving me up without a second thought
I look down at my feet shifting and my palms sweating
I didn't ask for these gifts and talents nor did I ever want to feel special
I swallow my fears and push the doubts no scream no shouts
I raise my right fist the people stare I raise it higher and match their glares'
Amen!!!
(sing loud, feel free
my Songbird, sister
be the Best
you have it, within you
to just: Be...!)
thank you for sharing
inspirational, to say the least
a powerful write;
especially love
the humble vulnerability, you imbued
into your choice words
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