by Dayelle Brown
It's either you're a bad bitch? Or a queen, And though it seems It wouldn't be so hard to choose from the two. But what about those in between? See. I’m still finding myself, Raised by a soceity pointing out my impurities, Then placing me back on the shelf. While battling against inherited insecurities, Steadily Depleting my wealth. Until, self Hate was all I could see. Mimicking photoshopped images, But never realizing Not even that model really looks that way. It's safe to say: It was an unobtainable goal, So I had to refocus my lens, My soul I had to cleanse. But I've never lost my self respect, Just being comfortable in my own skin, That was a hard concept to get. But eventually, I got it. Now it's a matter of conscience, Sharing my talents, And trying to be less of a hot head. I am currently building the legacy in which to leave my children. So no not a bad bitch, But not yet a queen. I’m saying you can throw around the title, But do you really know what it means? Turning up on weekends, Leaving your kids, for themselves to feed. Or every dude is ya man for the time being, As long as the money’s flowing, You continue hoeing. Now some may disagree, Claim you were born a queen? But how do you explain the ratchets and every chick on the cover of a vixen magazine? See... Queendom is an acquired trait. A learned behavior. Holding herself, king, children, and royal subjects down. By labels she is not bound. So she’ll find a way, She’ll find the how. That’s why to a Queen’s feet, You shall bow. Before greatness, I'm still just kinda great. Working internally to try to realize my true fate. Master my potential, Then share it with others. True knowledge, a Queen should covet. Then spread the wealth. I'm dedicated to creating the person I want to be, Trying to get closer to the future images I see. Of the queen. Fore I am she, Or at least will be. I'll ascend the throne, Not just marry into it; No Queen Consort. But my message don't distort. My man, my husband, must be a king. But royal in his own right, Not just because of an association to me. See he has work to do too. Work that should be done, before me he pursues. The true meaning of “do you”, Before we can ever do us. So I'm praying that he’s paying attention. Cuz I've been paying attention. Did I mention? I'm a work in progress. Focused on me, trying avoiding all the stress. So again, Not a bad bitch. I mean I do misbehave, But the last time I checked my mother wasn't raised in a cage. And a queen never worked, For minimum wage. So again i’ll say, Not yet a Queen. Just somewhere in between...
This poem is found in "As The Words Flow... a Collection of Prose and Spoken-word Poetry"
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