You came into my world with a smile
as wide as a river
and a touch as soft as silk
wrapping itself around my heart
goodbye's were always hard
but it knew that when our tomorrow came
you'd by in my sky again
we began with talks over coffee
you drank tea
I watched every sip roll from your lips
like waves coming into the sea
then our conversation went from, "How's the weather?"
to "Baby, I can treat you better?"
For you I made plain
that I'd be your shelter
protecting you from the rain
but then something happened
something that changed my African Violet
into a mere Daisy
I remember it like yesterday
because "not being good enough"
is something that stayed with me
I couldn't forget it
I played it back and forth
forth and back
trying to find answers
that would finally allow me to swallow that shit
then these answers that had been evading me all this time
rang as clear as church bells in my mind
at first I thought it was money
cause a brotha count every dime
(before he stuffs his sock)
then I thought, "She may not think that I'm from good stock"
yeah I have many flaws
and yeah I do view the world
through poor, pro-black activist eyes
the glass is usually half-empty
and I always think "ghetto" places are live
"Angry Black Man" you'd hint
and I smiled....
I love compliments
although I live with hate in my heart
hate for racism
hate for government
hate for police
hate for people to clutch their purses
as I walk by
hate for people that can't see me as anything other than
just anotha broke nigga
with a ceiling for a sky
hate for everything that has been endured
by black people
and Hate for mindstate of the world as a whole
hoping everyday that it burns down around me
leaving me unscaved
and in the end
the only thing left standing is Righteousness,
Mother Africa,
TimBookTu Website,
Afro-picks
and all other brothas and sistas down for the struggle

when I finally stepped out of denial
long enough to realize the cold air
you blew into my ear
I saw you under a darker sky
with overhead clouds looming
 as far as the eye could see
it wasn't me, it was my Blackness
my Gift of Blackness!!
and the faster I ran toward you
the further you ran from me
like a thief
you sprinted out of my sky
and the only thing
that you left me with
was relief....SISTA!!!
Relief that I was able to keep
the only piece of me that you
hadn't taken away
my spirit!!!!

* Spoken Word for the sista who was "Better than Me".
Love yourself more, then you may be able to Love me, Peace...B.T.