I never heard my mother told
My father that she loves him
Perhaps after seven sibling,
She did not had the strength to utter the words

Most of us as women sing the blues in our own way
Am I a fool to have loved you?
I wrote a piece about a mother and her son
Time together, from birth to end of his life at twenty-three/

The light that once gleamed from my eyes
the golden beam that upstage/
my caramel cheeks/
my rude lips upon which he pressed his own hungrily/
—my naïve body, darker than the night:/
Rejected his hours of longing:
I just can’t forget that day he walked away/

As a young adult, I guess,
it wasn’t meant to be:
Today I am calm,
Yesteryears I was uncharmed/ by his touch/

That, poem of mines that never was published
Was not meant to be/ it was restrains
Deep inside my fragile heart/

I uses to observes my friends relationships
With their men friend/boyfriend/
Total departure/ total disasters/
Dishonesty is food to a relationship/

But I hate  it/ FYI … my friends fools…
When love and hate collide
You just have to compose a poem/
Or a song/ even go shopping