Now here enters a woman who reads;
and voraciously, too.
In the coffee shop, in a wine bar,
in the meat shop, in a funeral.
Now here enters a woman who’s a poet;
she writes as one would deal drugs.
In the dark, in the down low,
in well-versed hush, in rehearsed rush.
Now here enters an angry woman;
“how feisty, I bet she’s a *****.”
Points fingers at men twice her size,
she punches mouths until they bleed out lies.
Now here enters a healthy woman;
healed as her anger is not suppressed,
she exercises, eats less than the rest,
hushes her mouth as the poison’s out.
"You should be angry. You must not be bitter. Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. It doesn't do anything to the object of its displeasure."
ㅡDr. Maya Angelou