We waited on the stoop,
We listened for your footsteps,
Momma cooking dinner in her apron and her Sunday dress.
Humming soulful gospel songs, telling us it won’t be long.
So we waited while we double dutched, listening to the stammering slurred words of the bum who drank too much.
We knew your work ended, but you just never came home,
Out on those streets…you were a rolling stone.
Momma had that food, hot on your plate,
While you were with that white woman, on a dinner date.
Was Momma’s black not good enough?
Did your struggles at home remind you that life was too real and too rough?
Maybe if you knew that your daughter would be a whore…..
And your other daughter would hold a complex, that her own daughter’s could not ignore…
Maybe if you knew that your son’s organs would fail, due to that alcoholic demon you passed on to him……that made his life derail…….
Maybe if you knew your other son would not walk a proud fathers path, until your life is nearing its end and so much time has passed……
Maybe if you saw back then, how your choices would Change your families history, and that God predestined a granddaughter, who would not hold her writing tongue, and make clear every mystery……
Maybe you would have rerouted your walk, saw your home as sacred grounds, where no devil in hell could stalk.
Maybe our relationship would not be so strained, if you owned what you did, and let the past remain.
You have but one family to either make or break, you give and you give, but their innocence you NEVER take.
God and me had a conversation, a round table..if I may. He said that He will keep me to write and tell these stories one day.
He knew I could not be jaded.
He knew That I would write out loud…..
Although I would see pain and sorrows, still make my Father proud.
Our generations have been neglected, due to a history of broken men…whose stories I feel need to be told, so here I am ready with my pen.
I’m an insider with an outsiders view,keeping safe my own generation to raise,
I will deliver these stories poetically,but in my fields, history can not graze.