I remember when I left; I was a sweet, naïve thing…
Not really sweet, somewhat corrupted,
Hadn’t been anywhere for real, thought I knew something, until I left.
I arrived as foreign and out of place, as my nose planted on a white woman’s face
Scared, smart, and ready for whatever…
attitudinal and such
I became secure and endured the common
Excelled in the rat race, saved face and
I remember the day I left…thought
I knew something
The swaying of bluegrass held
more than I’d anticipated
Love, excitement, happiness,
anger and extreme hatred
Out-of-pocket, lost change, and
loose rap has been a constant dish
Topped off with oblivion,
clueless-ness and southern hospitality.
I’ve been trampled on and have sampled all possible, yet I conquered all.
Now, I remember the moment it was time to go
© Keisha J Jones 2007
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*Swish, scratch, swish*...went the brushes and palm swipes of seven-subtly, eager artists against their roughly-textured and prepped canvases. Resonating incredibly soothing feels, like a medium-bristled brush being lovingly and carefully raked through her hair. It gave her the chills (click to read more of the sample and purchase)...
She, steadily walked down the busy road, yet there were no appropriate sidewalks and cars were whizzing by. At any given time, there may have been a million questions/comments/thoughts/replays/intentions and words traveling along the synapses of her nerve endings, overflowing her system and blowing her mind (click to read more of the sample and purchase)...