Did you ever think to bring a second candle?
The optimist in you did not think the darkness will last
The wax dripping off of its handle
As it burns much too fast
But I who’s seen darkness, I who was birthed away from light
I hoard all the candles
Fearing that they might
Not be enough
Tag: cultural poetry
Heaven
Some days I crave a sun so bright
Instead of Memphis rain
And people that can say my real name
Some days I feel my skin turning back
A darker shade close to black
And I hear my roots calling me home
But most days I know I am not alone
In feeling so far away from home
We’re all immigrants after all
Waiting for the call
To return to heaven
Change
They wonder why
She sits there
Speaking language she didn’t choose
Getting much too close
To forgetting her mother tongue
Wings sealed in a box
Her brown locs
Painted blonde
They wonder why she changed
She only did it
To survive