Monday, September 10, 2012
She stands there.
So much anger inside of her that
She knows is going to boil over
She knows when momma's mad,
She knows when momma's sad,
She knows when momma's anger
Her hate, is going to hurt her bad.
The first slap means nothing,
Just suprise upon her face.
Then the second blow is landed
But by then she already knows
She knows that momma loves her
She knows that she must have done wrong
She knows that when it's said and done,
Momma will hold her all night long.
But somewhere between the first slap
And the child bleeding on the floor.
She just became an object, not a Momma
Not at all.
She stands and watches and wonders why
She can't get up, She doesn't understand
She's already beyond the pain here,
She's free from Momma's rage.