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Knarled hands, old lady held speckled with liver spot
Tore at my own skin ripping falsies into my menalin
Felt skin crawling to be back there again
No hatred on the reproach
Just difficulty at me handing my self to their views ways points
Recession of the economy, how was it after the rise of the Europeans here elevated in jobs that to many with flared nostrils stood in line for
Then as if it is a yard of poverty it rests again on my new style
Simple afro as it is easier to maintain
Over mic spittin' loud were the words 'noone is coming to save us'
So we better start to Trus' us!
My sigh is living through the lungs of Lilith feeling I am an abandoned woman choosing a path away from statement
If I keep using intellect and smiling
A crack will open and I won't crack from the comments in the board room or dismissal in blue collared, trying to keep ends meeting on mortgage payments
Liccle dream garden I see it in my dreams
Plucked the ornament from it and it rests next to me
On my mothers bedside she bought just for me
Deep sighs into cigarettes
Just Us?
The man who beat me, my father leaps into back seat of his porsche and tells me I can't stay there no more
I'm holding the shaky hand of mother, with liver spots
No mention of him Irish grace and I wish on four leaf clover
He tipped his straw hat as if my mistake was to jump in bed with fleas and consequences missy
But I know it's the purse his is high so I'm sold
Like he sold his dream
When sailing here full of love and expectations on rivuleted boat with many others, 60's, 70's
I look back through his retina
And see me there grinding away and grinding still.
