do you know who I am

or who I want to be

that I struggle with at times

and yes,

even surrender

to the vain and insane thoughts

of what others

believe in their minds about

black sassy me

nursed by my ancestors

cursed by my gender

where worth is as short

as the skirt riding high that is

way past my knee, and parts

like that smoldering multiple syllable

"G" how I wish i could

know what the cards have in store

for my midlife at sometimes

demands so much more

than the simpler existence

of things that were plann'd

but were all redesign'd,

bear in mind, by some man

who knows nothing of character

nothing of worth, so take what you get

you can't match what I'm worth.

 © 2004 by cynth'ya lewis reed . All rights reserved.
  Cynth'ya Lewis Reed at Authors Den