Crib Pennies

I counted pennies under the crib 

I would sleep in until I was eight years old.

My Daddy was the Devil. My Mama was a Saint.

There were days it seemed like the sky was blue.

Others, like everyone was caught up in their own 

Issues and problems. Screaming and fights and prayers. 

We said them daily as my grandfather was a preacher. 

We used the outhouse outside where were watched him

Cut up fish and take the guts out. My cousin and I would 

Fight over who got to “pop” the stomach.

We road our bikes down Bethlehem drive. 

Like I was Jesus. Stuck between the warfare that would 

Come before me. Its like God had a plan the whole time-

Something global on a bigger level in order 

To expand the consciousness to another transition. 

Someone would sing my lullaby. I heard the lyrics 

Counting pennies under the crib. I knew someone would sing my song.

Why my sister hated me. Why she said she wanted to be a song writer

That one time and I thought it was odd 

Because I wasn’t trying to write poetry. 

Not back then but its like the devil kept coking me

Like I could feel his hands on my neck and I just wanted to know 

What has happening because it felt like it was on another level.

I got baptize on my own terms when I was 19 because 

I wanted to. Like I needed to in order to have the right protection

Against the demons trying to stop me. Those hurting innocence. 

Like I knew when I was eight years old watching the news 

And them calling children liars for trying to expose rape. 

Like there was a calling when it started asking us to speak. 

There counting pennies thinking of my Dad. 

I knew how hard he worked. I knew the struggles of dysfunctional

And mental health issues that no one wanted to talk about. 

It was shameful and disgraceful but no one had problems raping kids. 

Wasn’t that just the 80’s and don’t get it twisted because it wasn’t just Russian persists.

The were white guys too. Those that preyed on religious girls

Because religious girls always forgive.

This world had us all fucked up like there was a need 

For proof from God. That we needed to change. 

To wake up and start talking accountability for the actions we choose.

Like it was our responsibility to pass down morals and values. 

Caring about human life and social issues. 

Not because it was cool but because we had woke up in the darkness. 

Published by Ms. Selective

Traveling Gypse with a Heartfelt Spirit.

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