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If you judge a book by its cover
You will have misjudged who I am
My exterior shows where I come from
Reflecting urbanized NOLA life
With gold teeth, tattoos, jazzy attitude, and battle bruises.
Now close your eyes, absorb my thoughts;
Visualize the source of this sound
From which these words are spoken
Does the image you’ve created resemble the woman you see
My mind has evolved and been revolutionized
Through experiences of other countries, love, and family—
Seeing babies die from a lack of food,
People living in homes with no roofs,
Sunlight being their only source of life;
This has altered my view
Realizing what I’ve faced, is a struggle
Far from a Life fight
But that’s individuality
Understanding what it means to me
Remembering the pain of a father,
Leaving his kids to struggle with an absent mother,
Trading his family for a crack pipe,
And a high he considered life.
Even robbed of my right to say "NO",
Along with a piece of my soul.
But my eyes remained bright,
Believing there’s still good in life
Still at times my mind hurts from the pain I’ve known,
My back aches from the trauma I haul,
My mind overflows with ideas and thoughts,
That many are unable to conceive of
Wishing I could relax and let my defenses down,
But it’s hard to do, worried life or opportunity will pass me by.
My pen and pad have become my therapy,
Expressing my thoughts in words,
Gives me the gift of articulation.
Still I battle with my exterior versus my interior.
Who I am lies inside of what I’ve seen, believed,
This gives me the gift of who I’ve become:
"Articulate Contradiction."
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