I was a jonesin’ amorphism of blues that needed to be made news.
I once knew his name though all I now have are the remnants of a being used.
Oh the eyes they danced but the candor came at me as slander, one lie then he’d cry.
I held to GOD’s trust to not die or allow love’s flower to wilter.
I’ll do better than quill a forgive.
Though he narrowly set me aflame.
I’ll not barter or give too much away as the hours draw me near to deflate the jeers many have exclaimed while trying to hail the male’s refrain.
I walk alone, no king next to my throne.
Red Sonja, I got one up on you…GOD.
He took care of self now I take care of me in the tradition of my Father, gladly.
Queen by birthright. Knocked around but not down.
by Jerriè McGill
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