Rebeccaís Blues

by Baba Olutunde Olufemi

My man left me all alone

to raise four boys on my own

I donít have money for rent

what little I had Iíve already spent.

I have little food in the house

a job interview and no clean blouse.

My youngest son causes me grief

the oldest one is nothing but a thief,

the other two are lazy as a goat

and they all need new weather coats.

Welfare doesnít pay me enough

to cover my bills and its tough.

 

what am I going to do...

what am I going to do?

 

Without my GED I wonít get far

I came into this world wearing this scar.

I never had a chance at a better life

my father left for another manís wife.

All Momma did was drink everyday

until death came and took her away.

I canít get a good job or a good man

its not fair to me how my life began

I didnít ask to be brought into the world.

I just want to be like other black girls

who had a loving father and a caring mother

who had big sisters and big brothers

who had family to call in time of need

and a lover who shared a common creed.

 

what am I going to do...

what am I going to do?

 

I am a victim of an evil joke

who canít escape the crack smoke.

I have been robbed of my self-esteem

so whatís the use of trying to dream

Hell, all my life Iíve known nothing but poverty

125th street and Lenox Avenue is my reality.

If God exists then I am in doubt

I am trapped between hell and shootouts,

I canít beat the powers of defeat

or two seconds from living on the streets.

What are the answers for being poor?

I canít take this cruel shit anymore!

I awake daily to standing on the edge

only to fall to my knees in a desperate pledge,

tears filling my eyes until I can no longer see

what is left for me, what is left for me.

 

what am I going to do...

what am I going to do?



Rebeccaís Blues by Baba Olutunde Olufemi

© Copyright 2008. All rights reserved. No portion of this work may be duplicated or copied without the expressed written consent of the author.



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