Phenomenal Woman Poems

Born into a wold of sin. Thinking about it, not knowing where to begin. Darkness overshaodws the light, the belt in her hands held so tight. He makes her. He leaves her. He doesn't want to be with her. Why then would your waste yur time, lying together; all into the grind. She's not here no more, she's gone. So tell me daddy, what went wrong?

Was it me? Did I make you leave? Or was it the guilt you had that you just couldn't relieve? Precious tme wasted. What happened to your face? I maced it. Blood now runs out of my eyes. Tears no more, they've dried inside.
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Love has a great value. Love. What is it? Is it a tool we use to play with? Is it a contagious disease we catch? Is it an excuse men use when they know they've done something wrong? Love. Love could be something someone needs to go on. Something someone needs from a certain person that just will not give it. Saving, holding for someone else.

Why? Why does love have to be so complicated? Why are some people torn between love and hatred? Well, I don't know what you think, but when it all boils down, love has to play a part in any situation. It is that missing piece. A key, no, a first step to forgiveness.
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Birds flying high in the sky. No more sickness, crying, or dying.
All races and creeds join together in harmony and the Lord is shaking His head with satisfaction.
Fruit of all colors falling from the trees.
Animals relaxing and eating under the cool breeze.
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Wanting to change, sincerly for the best. Feels like the tightest handcuffs, the strongest muffle, and the tightest rope bounding me from the person that I truly want to be. I pray, not all the time, but I do. Are my prayers being heard? Does Allah love me? At times, I don't know. How could He? Im a continous sinner who dwells in the acts of holiness. In the moments of my indecent acts, indecent thoughts and indecent speech, I'am numb. I feel helpless, yet I feel free.

Free from mortal judgement; free. Free fom any doubts; free. But you know, how can I feel free, but so damn trapped? I know clearly of what I do. I see right through me. I put on a facade for the world to see, but at the end of the day, I'am me.
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You want to know, but I keep it on the low. Not telling anyone because it's buried in my soul.
Maybe I shouldn't keep the secrets that I do, but hell, its my life and I'll live it the way I want to.
Some things are better left untold, whether or not it be new or old. I know you probably wondering, well damn, what's the big secret? Ha ha. I laugh at you because I'll always keep it.
It seems to you as a big mystery. But for me, it's just about history.
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