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I recently asked a few black women by what standard should a young black man be judge
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When I was child I dreamed of the day when I could drink a cold beer and listen to the lies of the older men and fantasize about a womans skin/ I thought that going to work and bringing home a pay check no matter the size of it but that the day was spent laboring for my food folks and fun had meaning/ I remember being wooped for insulting the cook not knowing what it took to provide what was cooked/ I can still hear my mothers voice screaming out the meanest choice of bad and degrading thoughts that her thick black frame could bring forth I shuttered to think of what my step dad would repeat in the back of his massive black frame before he released his own vile retorts/ Mmmmmms was the word not even a pronoun or a verb could be heard his eyes fixated on a blank scream or the ironing board still preparing his wardrobe for work the next morning/ All of his friends and family constantly reminding him the things that they had heard yet he sighed looked at us kids and kept quiet undisturbed/ Over the years others were denoted and some promoted he stayed the same and never complained and till this day he still remains at the same job with my same mom with same tongue and it took me writing this to recognize the standard of a man not just black but unshakably god fearingly intact is just that/ Patience,Love and Commitment...... |
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