As this year closes and yet another one opens
Not sure where to place all this wishin and hopin
Been through the wringer – stuck on survivin and copin
My therapy is written words and those spoken:
All the trauma leaking through my paper plate
Weakening from the all this added weight
Decaying matter past expiration date
Molding, polishing it to verse and bemoan my fate
Freestyle poems to make my flow first rate
Songs of strength, social justice and challenging hate
Lofty ideals and platitudes are great…
But, I witness multitudes of micro and macro aggressions
Many met with uncomfortable silence and hesitations
Past scenarios flash in my front of my eyes
And I try to forgive myself all the botched tries
All the times I thought to speak was unwise
Considering my job threatened and other reprisals
When I could challenge rivals and facilitate soul revivals
Next year, I must develop this skill
holding others accountable cause no one else will
Gotta live the truth that I wanna create
And find something to bolster my paper plate