Written by: brandy megens

those who hope for hope-after an eternity-are entiled to do so 

only if they have measured that which has the power to absure hope

only if they have lived in the shadow of utter denial

after time a weariness like molten lead begins to settle in the veins and the brain

a germ of hope stays alive in your heart

you would rather prefer to disbelieve than acknowledge

trying to pursuade the world the stories they hear aren't true but they are

the journey will be not be quick

if you never inhabitated the innermost circle of hell you can never know what its like there

your dreams turned into nightmares

daughters of a man born into slavery and produced by a woman of mixed race

born free but vaguly remembers what it meant to be colored children in the ninteenth century

growing up sheltered               privilged status


james weldon johnson                               cab colleway

       an era which hearth and home defined a women's place

have the times really changed              has our way of thinking