I don't want your pity. Don't say it's a shame. I live in this city. And life is no game. What's done is in the past. I'm no bird with a broken wing. In my chair I haul ass. It's really no big thing. Keep your pity to yourself. And please raise your gaze. Being stared at isn't good for one's health. I don't let rudeness upset my day. 'Cuz I know what I am and what you're not. It's too bad you can't see that I'm just fine. Although a web of prejudice has you caught. Eventually things work out, it only takes time. I live to break through that web as you may suspect. Laugh if you must as long as you see. How I aim to be poetically correct. Writing's a passion, important to me. Poems and stories all can shed light. My cause is just and motives
pure. Where prejudice exists I'm ready to fight. Winning this battle won't be easy of that I'm sure.
9-4-98
Sneak no More
It used to be you'd say I was too young. And that I would not understand. Your words hurt me yet fell easily from your tongue. I hid my secret rebellion to your bogus demands. Seemed like you always tried to rearrange. Saying that was how you showed you cared. Like it was your right as Parent to insist I change. But I was out at night until I got snared. You had the nerve to act like it broke your heart. Then it was back to your drunken trance. I felt as if you were out of patience from the start. On me it seemed like you'd never take the chance. That there might be value in hearing me out. Giving me a taste of real validation. Instead more trite phrases you'd spout. About how I owed you respect while you gave intimidation. Too bad you couldn't put me first for real. We might've become closer then we are today. If only you'd truly cared about how you made me feel. It's in the past, now I'm the Parent my way. Being the Mother I wished you'd been. I don't let my emotions run the show. I don't believe it takes victimizing to win. I bet it's your parents who made you feel so low. I understand how much labels hurt. At least we are able to still speak. No longer trying to make each other eat dirt. To go out at night I no longer sneak.
9-19-98
*Not that my relationship with my mother was like this...but a good friend's was and I was inspired to write it for her. I hope you dig the way I wrap up the endings. I try pretty hard to end on a positive note most of the time.
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