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Angelia Braswell Poem
It started late last year,
You began forgetting things.
A word here,
an appointment there.
Nothing shouted,
you need to worry.
As the seasons changed,
so did you,
but it wasn't for the better.
Arguing with me
over stupid things,
that wasn't who you were.
Then one night after midnight,
you awoke so confused
and frightened.
You thought I was a stranger.
I didn't know what to do.
The next day I decided
we couldn't solve this alone.
We went off to your doctor,
seeking a plausible answer.
We talked to him.
He examined you.
The news was not good.
Dementia
was his answer.
We cried and wept.
Shook our fists
toward the heavens,
yelling,
"God,
why us?
This is so unfair!"
Some days it seems
as if all this
was some cruel nightmare.
But then the truth returns,
an unwelcome reminder
of what lies before us.
The long goodbye is hard.
Your body seems so strong,
yet this cruel fate
keeps robbing you
of who you are.
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
Menopause
Why am I always hot?
My emotions jump
like a TV remote,
changing channels
without rhyme or reason.
She stops—
asks the question:
Who is that woman
staring back at me?
Unknown, yet still familiar.
Her weary eyes
return my gaze.
She wears a silver crown,
resting proudly
upon her head.
Her changing waist
gradually appears,
as a few more pounds
begin to grace her middle,
almost unnoticed.
Wrinkles crease my face,
mapping the journey
of a life well-lived,
and adventures yet to come.
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
I am a wild child,
feral, some might say.
Out the door
Before the sun can even rise,
Riding my bike
for miles upon miles,
without a care in the world.
Splashing in the creek,
catching minnows with my toes.
My days are full of adventure,
until Mama calls me home..
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
Our first family reunion
without Grandma here.
Will it feel the same
as it did last year?
The family has all gathered.
The food is on our plates.
Wait a minute—what is this?
We all brought Grandma’s cake.
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
I hate math.
It’s filled with problems
Too hard to understand.
My teacher smiles
And tells me it’s fun
To play with all those numbers.
I begin to understand.
It’s easy now!
I think finally I’ve got it—
Then she adds in fractions!
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
A simple southern town,
Mayberry by the water.
Quaint shops line quiet streets
Where no one is a stranger.
While life drifts by
At an unhurried pace.
A place that gently carries visitors
Back to a forgotten time.,/center>
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
Sunlight blazing in the sky,
Popsicles melting on eager lips,
Bicycles racing around the block
With laughter trailing close behind.
The air shimmers with the day's heat
As we splash through the little creek,
Chasing frogs and darting fish,
Our worries carried away by the current.
Days of long ago return in memory—
The simple joy of childhood,
When summers seemed to last forever,
Yet somehow slipped away too soon.
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
What Does 1776 Mean to You?
Does it speak of freedom—
the year the United States was born,
its birth certificate
penned by none other
than Thomas Jefferson?
He wrote of liberty,
of unalienable rights,
that all are created equal,
yet kept others in chains,
refusing to see
the humanity
of his enslaved brothers and sisters,
while building a nation
upon their labor.
How can a man proclaim
that all are created equal,
yet deny that truth
to those he enslaves?
How can he claim liberty
while taking away another's?
How can he exploit their women,
then deny the children
born of those unions—
his own flesh and blood—
while declaring freedom
the birthright of all?
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
I had a little dog;
Her name was Lilly Mae.
She was such a silly girl
Who loved to romp and play.
Two dogs long
And half a dog high,
She was quite a funny sight—
Always by my side.
No matter where I wandered,
She was never far away.
My faithful little shadow,
My sweet and playful Lilly Mae.
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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Angelia Braswell Poem
Sweet juice drips down my chin
As I cradle its fuzzy fruit in my hand.
Nature's candy—sweet and irresistible,
A taste that carries me back
To carefree days among the orchard trees.
Copyright © Angelia Braswell | Year Posted 2026
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