To my daughter with a mother wound
Let my mother’s wound speak to your mother’s wound.
I do not need an open mic for this.
But this will be a mic drop.
Let this echo over and over again.
I’ve been your age, you have not been mine.
In fact, you are 3 decades behind.
I am wiser and seasoned with emotions you have yet to be cooked with.
When you catch up to me then your words might burn.
But until then, respect is what I deserve.
You know you are just like me.
You like my words, I know you do.
I do not have to rhyme to be cool.
Stealing my lines and everything.
Writing is my therapy.
Passed down to you.
Been writing before I could give life to you.
You are acting brand new.
Yes, there is something in the water.
It is not a sickness.
It is a pandemic
Broken men are an illness.
Looking for a woman to save them from drowning.
The water is tainted.
You ain’t the first and won’t be the last.
A girl fighting to be a woman.
A woman fighting her inner child.
The inner child fighting her mother’s wound.
A mother fighting the cycle.
A mother fighting to change the narrative.
Get in line.
You have a long way to go!
One more before I go…
Do better than what you had!
Maybe you can stop the cycle!
Ready, set, go…