On my better days
I think to better days.
Simplistic optimist with a vision.
But on my sadder days,
I'm pushed past the place where the weak end
And mama's not around for the defense.
Some days I don't believe in
Those days bring me down to my knees,
Conquered once again
By the remedy of the blade-man.
And my mind is on Delilah,
Without her Samson could have saved man
But who tried to save Sam?
Betrayal from the fakers
Turned his strength into slave hands.
Why choose the option of vulnerability?
My favorite feature, but worst insecurity.
Ready to raze to the roots that raised me.
Nappy, twisted crown of conflicted prayers.
Stretching up to Heaven, tangled praise and frustration.
Too much to manage, Mama.
Not sure if I can maintain it.
I'm out here on my own, alone,
I don't think I can take it.
This razor makes me anxious
But insecurity's more contagious.
I wake in the morning and
Half of it's gone.
A weight off my shoulders,
Thoughts off my mind,
My name remains the same
But I'm newly redefined.
I can see my goal in sight again,
I'm ready to revise.
- African American Poetry, 1760-1900 ›
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- Black History Month | Academy of American Poets ›
- 10 Poems by African-American Poets | JSTOR Daily ›
- Celebrating Black History Month | Poetry Foundation ›
- 12 Poems to Read for Black History Month | Academy of American ... ›
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