Danielle+Little

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There will always be stages in your life that will help you realize and appreciate most of the important actions. Teenage years is around the time period, used for a person to find out who they are as a person. Experiment with drugs, sex, abuse and etc. Everyone needs a coping method. I write as a coping method, not normally poems but journal entries. Starting to write poems help expand my view of the world in a broader eye. In the poems below, I tend to use repetition to express the energy I had on word or phrase. I also wrote with words my peers and I use in our everyday vocabulary. The theme of the poems that were written were not only related to me, but what goes on in the world around me. Events that isn't shown on the 6pm news channels, but is news in my society.=====

= = = = = What is Poetry? = "Poetry is the silent voice that is heard everywhere inside of us"...- Unknown = A Childhood Memory = An afternoon of joy, turned into an afternoon of tears slowly watching the bowling balls rolling down the lane

watching the ball roll, everything around me fell into slow motion.

the high pitch scream and the dropped of a phone. As the phone dropped it was as if a demon came out of the phone and ran into her ear causing her to scream adults running out the bowling ally bowling ball make a strike, It was as if everything in my life was striking down

He told us to keeping striking down, but the look in his eyes told me different

I was always less than 2 feet away from my mother. But for her to run off so fast, like she was running in an Nascar Race, frightened me didn’t know what was going on, i didn’t know why the laughter turned into pain

It was just a rush of emptiness running into my heart, stabbing me in the chest

"Hes dead because of you"

= Ode to Septa =

To the conivence of the noise the horrible smell, that punctures your nose and the loudness,dirtiest, ignorant filled, that defines the word Ghetto. but, To the conivence way to travel in the city of Philadelphia

= A Moment Without a Goodbye. =

I believe her, because I love her I'd marry her But, Why would that make her happy Some day we'll get married But to me this is one relationship of admiration

I sleep to hide the pain to forget the hurt

without saying goodbye Our friendship is old No one actually listens to you I'd give you away But, Why leave without saying goodbye

= Molded into the Shape I am. =

Molded into the unhoped, unthought of

Not knowing who was driving life

Mother showing potholes of wrong from right, father creating roads and then sidewalks into the sweetest nights

Brother providing the manual, the steps of it all

"Danielle! If you can't do it right.... don't try at all"

Teachers of all kinds, stop at red slowly return at yellow create a green, the hopes for hope

Molded into a road

then molded into the one that has hope

= 6. Riff Poem =

I see her beauty in you I see how you see her in your reflection I notice the dimples to the smile that brings you hope I saw the moments you shared I witness the love you show her

I see her spirt in you the way your eyes glisten to a memory the way your ears stand up when you hear that fimilar laugh the laugh that lights up your world

I see her sturture in you I notice the way your fingers moves, when you dream of her I felt the hug, you wish was given to her I adage how you held the coke bottle, as if were her

I saw her love for you.

= 7. What is seen through these eyes =

Hurt, but happiness Love, but evil Angels, then devils Crying, but without tears Brown, then purple Beauty, then overfilled with lies Curves, that create the eye of the beholder Soft skin, that leads to seduction Hands, that define a black girl

= Riff Poem = == = = = Soul Searchin' = A duet with Brent Scott

What ever happen to the Little black girl who cried her eyes out cuz daddy ain’t treat mama right

Who wakes up from her dreams just to get knocked down by the fist that feeds her her reality a big statistic

that says she gon be pregnant by 16 The little black girl that was mesmorized by societies fantasys thinking that her prince will one day come sweeping her away off her threshold into the sunset life being served on the silver platter that her momma always promised but momma had her own priorities

getting on those knees so she can a bit higher closer to the heaven that she dreamed of the night before.

What ever happen to the little black girl whos temple was wrecked by prince charming Prince charming not caring to see if that shoe fit but more concerned of making sure that rubber did oh dear the only thing charming is that you didn’t get pregnant You give in to realities temptations

Not strong enough to have your own roots. you needed that special fertilizer What ever happen to The little black girl that saved her momma promise

Promise after promise “Suga it will all be over, I promise lord will help us through” The jar of promises spilling over into the river of tears or is it her fears

Searching for the soul that will never be found the little black girls lives life round and round “Will my prince come?” “Is he near?” Or is it the river flowing with fear. A drought of life has flowed on by, then seven years of promises turned into lies.

“Now where am I, is this real” Baby girl, this is for real I was hoping to never see you here, I was praying you’d never come near. I would never dream of your little brown eyes to see the hell I created on earth. Or would I want you to think I was too weak to give a damn about you. Would you want to become the Monster that I have become. Never did I want to hurt you. The little black girl that I loved, but never raised. But Never did I want you to see, how I quit on you, and myself.

What ever happen to the little black girl?