Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
My Mamma cried
When she'd heard what I'd done
My Daddy went back inside
And he grabbed his gun

I'd met a ******* the other side of town
Of course I am white and of course she is brown
I don't rightly care cause we're both in love
And I ain't gonna let her suffer none

We's from Birmingham
Down South Birmingham Alabama you see
If'n you must know the year
I'd say a shameful 1963

There was unrest amongst the people
Which was bad enough
But it was doubly troublesome
On our taboo love

Deep segregation kept our worlds apart
Something the youth of the day couldn't see
Outside color don't matter, it's what's in the heart
That's the hold she has over me

Not really sure things have changed all that much
Though it's our nature to want to pretend
I'm not much into caring what others might think
Sometimes you gotta stand up like a man

I'm telling this tale from my front porch swing
As I listen to my Grandchildren's playful screams
While holding hands rocking back and forth
My lovely brown skinned beauty and me
Tallied gifts be given not
They're more to be forgotten
One tear
One tooth
One eye lash plucked
One wish
One chance
One night untouched
One hand
One word
One tender soul
One ear
One eye
One breath to hold
One pulse
One gaze
One brink of dawn
One meadow
One hearth
They'll all be gone
Tallied things be given not
They're only for the taking
Tallied things be counted most
When allied with the breaking
 Apr 2013 Lily Gabrielle
Tessa F
You told me not to cry over spoiled milk.
But darling, I never liked expiration dates.
I don't want things to end.
But maybe the beauty is in the inevitability.
So I'll leave the fridge door open, and feel the breeze for just a little while longer.
 Apr 2013 Lily Gabrielle
PJ
I look to God,
Because it's all I can do.
Wet rain kisses
Hot ground
Breaking the silence
Steam rises
Evaporating the tension
I look into your eyes
Deep brown
My palm urges
To stroke your cheek
Curl your hair
Round my fingers
The tension between us could be broken
Should be broken
Waiting on the skies above
To open up
And let the steam
Sink into my pores
Open my eyes
To yours
Please don't give up
You hear the ticking of the clock
Steady, droning on and on
Marking the path to death
A long, harrowing journey

You heard the ticking of the clock
Or rather, you thought you did
Until the sudden revelation that it was a bomb
Intent on shortening that journey quite considerably
Next page