I wrote a poem once
declaring my love for loud laughter
in low, loud, funky places
The wo/man assigned to be my mother
pretended to be proud
pretended to be my champion
pretended s/he loved Me,
everything about me
But, s/he never missed an opportunity
to remind me that I was Too BLACK!
That I was still a Black Bastard,
the raggedy daddy s/he gave me at age eight,
the low whore snatched back when I was fifty eight
Well, racist bitch,
I was never too Black!
your dumb , lazy, jealous, envious ass,
was just too racist
Yes, I do thank you for being you,
not only was I made better
by Sixty-Two years of unending plots and "sacks", ignorant voodoo, conjure, lies disguised as true love,
I find it easy to identify ever trimp-er that pops off in my face,
just waiting to get slayed by
MY Redeemer
BEAMING!!!
*******THE GWEN DOSTER DIARIES*******
Monday, April 5, 2021
Monday, April 5, 2021
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