Her Right To Do Wrong

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She thought it was her right to do wrong.
Same old pain, same old song.
Travelin’ on her path alone, lookin’ for love in one after another.
 
 
 
Dirty tricks and silly games, began to form into reality
Tragedy
 
 
 
 
False gods and false hopes, thicken his spot, thickened her plot.
Dangerous time for a sista in need of the love she once held near.
 
 
 
Hurting from a lifetime of disappointment from brotha men, tryna get in.
Wishing for her to fall, for a chance, a little romance and late night calls
or the midday infidels.
 
The three wise men that did the most damage waited for their chance to redeem,
But in the scheme of things became cowardice,
Only telling their stories from their eyes,
Which bred little healing and rhetoric in disguise.
 
They too lie in pain, and ultimate disdain for the queens in their view, in their reach.
So in the meantime, they mean well but soon swell and lose their focus on the real prize.
 
Third eyes slowly closing, getting just a glimpse of what they could become.
Fucking so much til their hearts became numb.
And dumb founded when they realized that their experience wasn’t enough – to keep her.  ‘Cause she been there, done that.
Don’t you see her?
 
She too numb and sad, mad at her life.
Wondering where did the time go.
Why she can’t find loyalty in a decent flow.
Words escape mouths, escaping words, leading to absurd foundations where in the Distance there appears to be more hope, non-judgmental,
It is feminine and kind and soft and willing and listening…
Vicarious vixen posing as mistress.
 
And so, she thought it was her right to be wrong.
But it was the same old pain, same old song.
And thus in the end, she traveled her path alone,
But still looking for love in the arms of another.
 
Regressed, and hit the reset.
But without the moment to heal, revealed was her deep side of trap and slide.
And dropped into depressive lingering phases.
Because though the phrases were so dope and pure, for once,
The past had a grasp on this little princess,
In this anecdote of love, longing and actual belonging.
 
 
The path had to come clear, the balance was near,
Then confession dropped, new home, renewed resting spot.
Safety was coming, through the pain, through the pause.
Ready to learn of the cause.
 
Ready.
 
The truth serum opened up the can of this saucy sista,
Learning of why he dismissed her, then missed her…
An all too common equation in the life and times of this tough lady spirit.
 
 
It’s time.  Wake up.  Withdraw.  Accept.  Destroy.  Rebuild.  Relax.  Repeat.  RITUAL.  Resonance. Rewrite.  Renaissance.  Ignite.  Testify.  Confess.  Then Heal.
 
 
The time clock traveled across the seas to find the Queen in blossom.
Respect.
The time clock traveled to a new space and cosmic love hate.
 
 
 
Mental capacity breached, bleached to the germs were crucified, and the lies?
Lay dormant in the dirt.
The beautiful lotus bloomed into righteous thought,
As she dealt with the scars of her wrongs.
 
 
 
 
She thought it was her right.  And she was correct,
But lacked the respect upon her own dome.
Living the symbolic manifestation from the comb.
Full of honey and feminine quality, her truth came to pass.
 
And at last. she. found. peace.

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