Cautionary Tales and New Creation
Every time a woman or child cries in despair, I cry with him or her.
We simply can't control what we're brought into when we are born.
There are men who have achieved ascendance climbing onto others;
The rest of us have to live our lives under these white men's heels.
I am a white, attractive woman, living among my appointed peers,
And the thought of how we agree to present ourselves sickens me.
I wish I had the strength of even one of my past black employees,
Those who served me as their mistress and returned home to families.
I was reared for beauty and cunning, not to be an example of success.
White males were to be the masters of their family's and the world's fate.
It mattered not what sins they committed against family or community;
We were to all bound, or be rejected, in protecting their supremacy.
Until women stop obtaining their strength to fight injustice from children,
And until men cherish the women that produce their sacred progeny,
Their is no hope of bringing only cherished children into our world,
And no hope for all protecting our children from the destruction of war.
We continue to produce more young men as expendable creators
Of children and themselves to feed the maws of ancient retribution.
We force women to carry and birth children that they don't accept,
Only to have more angry animals taught none of the ways of humanity.
When will we forget the fights handed on by our ancient ancestors,
And accept our responsibility to create our own human society?
The words of the ancients are seen by me as cautionary tales,
Not as the instructions for the ways humans are meant to be.