Death Became Her
She walks in so silently as if to hide
her shame.
No word spoken, as she fumbles through
her draw and takes her time to unwind.
She’s late, down, sad and mad
with herself, mad with the world.
Death is her choice, the bag she carries
is filled with broken promises,
and broken dreams.
Nothing to hold, as her fingers
goes through, trying to find the last
puzzle to her misery,
She buried her heart and soul
in a shallow grave.
No life, no family, no love,
as she sinks herself deeper
in a hole she’s already in
just to throw in the dirt.
I Am Woman
Scars, a mark on me,
that says I am woman.
My head shaved no new growth
But I am Woman.
I lost I gain, yes tears fell,
cause I am Woman.
My body ached, from the pain,
but I am Woman.
The days were long and hard,
I remember, because I am woman.
I struggled hard, the weakness
in my limbs, but I am woman.
It got me four times
I fought, I prayed.
Bending knees that cracked,
that tried to fail me but, in the end, I am
Woman. Because my strength is renewed
I survived the grueling toil
of sickness.
Death came knocking,
But I knock it back to its grave.
I took back my life and
rebuked the noise of
voices that spoke negative
saying I wouldn’t make it
But I thrived and said to them
I am every Woman
And I won the fight.
LISELLE POWDER
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