How many times do I have to blink back tears from my eyes
because my man has gotten himself involved in a war
against himself; against another brother
Of all the causes to be "down" for why is it
the one over colors gets the greatest attention
How many nights must I lay alone, awake in my bed,
hungry, thirsty for his touch, taste, smell
While he's locked behind enemy lines watching a calender
doing his time while outside the world rages on, at least for me
How man more drive-bys, drug buys, funerals, and bad vibes
have to become a part of my everyday life
before the senselessness of little boy acts mature their minds
How many more sistas' have to hold each other first
out of loss and frustration only to love each other
the way they used to love their man,
knowing once out of the closet they'll be called dykes and lesbians
How many more single family homes have to arise
out of the dust of the fires their absentee fathers leave behind,
where a woman struggles to teach some lost little boy how to become a man
How many times will this woman have to worry and wonder
if the police will be standing on the other side of her door if it is opened 
How many more times will my man make me die emotionally inside