With all the bags you have, with everything that weighs you down, why would you burden yourself with someone else's? Why are you carrying the hate of someone who never crossed you for a friend who let it go a handful of blue moons ago? You must be so tired. That bag you carry is like a black hole infinitely heavy but infinitely hallow. Let it go! How do you touch any one with those calloused hands... and enjoy it? The weight of bag straps have elongated your fingers making it easier for you to point the blame fueled by the half truth completely skewed perception of what you think happened. Till the gravity of those bags severed your finger tips. You hold on to those bags even though its pointless. I don't know you or care enough about you to have this conversation face to face but I hope this speech will reach someone I do care about and don't know they're endanger of severed finger tips. Hopefully they will get the point of this !!! !! ! Christopher Michael Note: This was written a while back after reading someones FaceBook post (I think). Someone was hating on someone by proxy.
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Dear Goddess,
Dear Sister of the World, Dear Daughter of the Night, Dear Mother of Man, Dear Miss Stolen, Dear Miss Understood, Dear Miss Most Appropriated & Overlooked. Dear brilliant beautiful woman with the Afro that can eclipse the sun. You whose locs defy convention and will only be tamed under their own terms. You are a rainbow of colors extending from the most magnificent cloud. I see those follicles dancing from your beautiful black, beautiful brown, beautiful tan, beautiful white scalp. They cork screw, they spiral, they roller coaster across your glory into an untouchable crown. Your hair looks like a freeze frame of a most exquisite explosion. I see you princess. I see you queen. What I can't see is the the stage. Can you sit down, move over or maybe we can switch seats? ~Christopher-Michael 03-19-15 |
Christopher-Michael
Poems, Haiku and rough drafts that probably won't get much stage time. Archives
April 2018
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