WOV'N
Dallas/Fort Worth, TX
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And Then, I Wrote
People keep telling me that my work is too depressing,
that I need to elevate my mind to a more positive way of thinking.
Don't write so much dark stuff.
So I found a seat in my quiet place.
I decided to write something positive.
I chose not to write about little girls and boys
being beaten in their own home,
or children neglected by parents that are too busy to parent
or how 1 out of every 3 little girls are found to be molested.
Instead, I wrote: "No amount of gold is more precious than remembering the laughter of a child that has passed away."
When I picked up my pen...
I didn't write about a young girl who lived on the edge of the ghetto,
who was called racial slurs by the white kids,
but was not considered black enough by the black kids.
or a young girl who developed too early into womanhood,
only to grow ashamed of the gifts God gave her
and made to feel dirty by the little boys jokes.
or the child who wanted to die,
since the day she was born.
Instead, I decided to write: "Life becomes most beautiful on your death bed."
when I placed my pen on my paper...
I didn't write about a teenager who was sheltered
and smothered by the fears of her mother.
or about how she left home to marry a man
who considered her to be his property...
a man who beat her 'til her dreams were bloody.
or how that young lady left in the middle of the night,
because she was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Instead I wrote: "The Son of God shines brightest, when we are at our darkest."
And though I didn't write about that runaway
living on the street to get away from a drug addicted mother.
or a single mom living in poverty,
just a breath away from being homeless.
Or a mother who can't convince her son
to stop trying to take his own precious life,
there was still concern about my lack of positivity.
So finally I explained to them:
I am positive that...
Children are being abused everyday.
Racism occurs everywhere.
Some boys learn to disrespect young girls at an early age.
Spouse abuse happens.
Poverty is a way of life for some.
Not everyone wants to live.
And death comes when life ends.
I didn't write this into existence.
This has always been reality.
This is the reality that I can't turn my back on,
the reality that I see whether my eyes are open or closed.
This is the reality that haunts my dreams.
When I put it in ink, it might bring you misery.
Because to you my poetry's mere words .
but for me, this is my therapy.
And then I wrote: "If the words I wrote created the hardships of the world,
that I need to elevate my mind to a more positive way of thinking.
Don't write so much dark stuff.
So I found a seat in my quiet place.
I decided to write something positive.
I chose not to write about little girls and boys
being beaten in their own home,
or children neglected by parents that are too busy to parent
or how 1 out of every 3 little girls are found to be molested.
Instead, I wrote: "No amount of gold is more precious than remembering the laughter of a child that has passed away."
When I picked up my pen...
I didn't write about a young girl who lived on the edge of the ghetto,
who was called racial slurs by the white kids,
but was not considered black enough by the black kids.
or a young girl who developed too early into womanhood,
only to grow ashamed of the gifts God gave her
and made to feel dirty by the little boys jokes.
or the child who wanted to die,
since the day she was born.
Instead, I decided to write: "Life becomes most beautiful on your death bed."
when I placed my pen on my paper...
I didn't write about a teenager who was sheltered
and smothered by the fears of her mother.
or about how she left home to marry a man
who considered her to be his property...
a man who beat her 'til her dreams were bloody.
or how that young lady left in the middle of the night,
because she was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
Instead I wrote: "The Son of God shines brightest, when we are at our darkest."
And though I didn't write about that runaway
living on the street to get away from a drug addicted mother.
or a single mom living in poverty,
just a breath away from being homeless.
Or a mother who can't convince her son
to stop trying to take his own precious life,
there was still concern about my lack of positivity.
So finally I explained to them:
I am positive that...
Children are being abused everyday.
Racism occurs everywhere.
Some boys learn to disrespect young girls at an early age.
Spouse abuse happens.
Poverty is a way of life for some.
Not everyone wants to live.
And death comes when life ends.
I didn't write this into existence.
This has always been reality.
This is the reality that I can't turn my back on,
the reality that I see whether my eyes are open or closed.
This is the reality that haunts my dreams.
When I put it in ink, it might bring you misery.
Because to you my poetry's mere words .
but for me, this is my therapy.
And then I wrote: "If the words I wrote created the hardships of the world,
I would gladly lay down my pen and never pick it up again.
Copyright© 2005 By Robyn H. Jimenez
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