Proud Mica

Proud Mica I mustn’t go inside For I will die Though forbidden I dig for mica, A shimmery crystalline rock Resembling thin mirror glass I bare scars From scraping the ceiling inside A hollow, black hole That’ll surely collapse I labor for but a few cents But I mustn’t cry For I’ve survived Though thick air And dust fill up my lungs And I’ve got a cough I carry on With light humor And a silent prayer I stay pretty With dirt beneath my nails And scabs beneath my feet I walk on pretty Glistening dirt Leading to my secret hiding place To make you pretty My work stops when the rain drops The mines ain’t mine Even at four or five Nor are my fantasies I’m part of the machine First to touch the jewel Yet last to eat Flashlights lead the way Until it burns out And leave me in a maze I eat dirt But I ain’t dirty I dream of pretty Tassels and tea parties Marckincia Jean Narrative 06/09/19