I feel poetic,,,

So recently I have been feeling a little bit on the poetic side.. Don't really know why! I've been looking at song lyrics and all of a sudden the actual words are popping out at me! Some of them can be really meaningful and we just pass them on by... hmmm, like...k so I cant think of a good example.. but anyway! I used to write poetry in high school and kinda just quit...guess Ill start it back up again. People have been telling me how good I write and if that is my skill Im guessing I should use it to the fullest!

BLESSED IS MY NAME

Blessed is my Name

Regardless of the Pain

Despite..........Everything

I still manage to Sing

It doesnt matter about....

the Tumbles...the Falls

the monumental back Draws

Those horrible down pouring days

Where nothing was Sane

I still manage to Say

Bless is my Name

The tears that were Shed

Were not in Vain

The ache that was Felt

Did cause some Pain

But in spite of it all

There is this one thing

The continous fall of Blessings

Upon my Name.

By,

Britjanee.......07

The majority of my poetry consists of the pain and suffering that I feel my ancestors went through. I tend to write about African American issues a lot for some reason! My first major poem about this was written a couple of years ago in my uni dorms!!!!! I just got and the mood and couldnt quit writing! Here it is:

The Dream:

By Brittany Thurman

Day after day, moment after moment

I have come to realize, to recognize, to know

That I am that dream ,that epitome, that essence

Of what freedom was all about

200 years ago this wouldn't have been possible

200 years ago I would be shackled and chained,

Just so I wouldn't run away

Lying in filth next to my bed-stricken neighbour

Counting the moments until death knocked on my door

Just so I could taste a drop of freedom

All because of the colour of my skin

The deep brown that it is.

100 years ago, no one would have thought

That a black girl could or rather, would

Be highly educated, well spoken

Going to school, to know more, learn more

To be someone. They didn't think it was possible

But it is.

All because of the colour of my skin

The deep brown that it is.

60 years ago, who would have known?

That his dream would come true,

Harmony between me and you

Then…

Who would have thought?

I could use the same bathroom

Drink out of the same fountain

Sit where I wanted

On the bus, in the cafeteria

Not be beaten

All because of the colour of my skin

The deep brown that it is.

10 years ago, I never knew

The same girl who grew up

In the West End of Louisville

Would one day live in London

The same girl who only knew

Inner city life and…

The occasional country weekends

Would one day be on her own

In a different country, alone, but

Fulfilling the many dreams of countless

Inner city youth

Only God knew

That this brown skinned child

Would one day take The Dream

And stretch it out to its seams.

britjanee-07

**Britjanee**