Chances are there ain’t nothing comin’ my way, ‘cause that’s the way it goes in these parts of town. Nothin’ comes and I ain’t gonna get nothin’. Walkin’ the streets this late, anything that might come is gonna be bad, then it’s for sure that I’ll get some of that. So, I start to hurryin’ and prayin’ none of ‘em is gonna catch up to me and give me some of that bad. That’s the only kinda thing they got for me. Only ‘cause it’s my way do I say this is all my fault. But there was no way I could know that I shouldna tried to go to that meetin’. They wasn’t lookin’ for no piece of mind from my kind. Even though they says it’s an open meetin’ and everyone’s welcome, when I entered, all them white folk is lookin’ my way, and not in a nice way. But being as I am, I don’t leave right and away. I think to myself, “I ain’t wearin’ no short-short skirt, and my breasts isn’t showing like some of them women round my parts.” I’m right on the boarder of that town mark and I had every right to go to that meetin’ and give ‘em my say-so about the ways people ignore what’s going on. Now, I’m here cryin’ ‘cause nobody would let me get past one word before they talk over me and call on someone else to say somethin’. I wanna yell and pound my fists on a table, but there wasn’t nobody else in that room that looked nothin’ like me, and I got afraid. And I’m still ‘fraid, ‘cause I ain’t in my parts yet, and maybe some of them’s gonna come my way, and if they do, it’s gonna be that bad kinda somethin’. That’s the only kinda somethin’ that comes my way. Lord help me and lead me home.
Your comments add wonderful flavors. Thank you!