Tyshawn Knight Poet Rhyme

An African American Woman Sits With Tea

I try to count my blessings
And compare my life to hers
I try to see that I have so many 
reasons 
to maintain my nerves

But, she is the one that never cries
But, she is the one that never cries

She has been through a war
And yet she prays
She has been without food
And yet she hopes for a better day

Yes, she is the one that never cries
Yes, she is the one that never cries

She looks at me and all my glory.
We both wonder 
what I complain about
what’s my story.
Why I don’t have her strength
to survive.
Why with every waking moment
All I think about is how to die.
Maybe I should fly to Iraq,
Or Africa
Become and untouchable
In India
Sell myself and meet this slave
So we can sit and talk
For a moment
And she can teach me how to be brave

And why she is the one that never cries
And why she is the one that never cries

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Andrea Dietrich May 20, 2015 at 7:54 PM Tyshawn, This one shows us some pain that you carry. And also how you admire the ones who are brave. I really enjoyed reading this one! And that refrain leaves an impact.

Richard Lamoureux May 10, 2015 at 11:15 AM Sometimes the one without tears has been broken. Continue crying as it is a gift bestowed upon us by the Holy Spirit. Within tears we are comforted. As a man there are times I wish I could have allowed myself to cry more freely instead of holding them so tightly. I wrote a poem called Ripping that depicts how pain expresses itself in one way or another.

Afolabi Muideen April 18, 2015 at 10:01 PM Fantastic poem,I enjoy it

Dorian Petersen Potter April 18, 2015 at 7:01 PM Very nice pen Tyshawn!Enjoyed reading your excellent piece.A7!Wishing you a very lovely weekend!In his light!God bless you!:)D.

Katie-Jayne Boardman April 12, 2015 at 3:22 PM Beautiful! An excellent poem about comparisons.... Love the repetition.

Millard Lowe April 12, 2015 at 11:49 AM Beautiful Tyshawn. Well penned. Thus are the beautiful "Black Bridges" that we have been able to cross over on...the stable sable stairways left for us to climb...those ebony souls that we have come from..." Peace and Love, M. Lowe