Perfect, I’m not.
You painted that picture in your mind of me.
Now, you want to be mad with me.
Sin, I struggle too, it’s not exempt from me.
Matter in my eyes,
Odds piled up to the depth of me.
My mother raised me to love.
But sometimes, I hate,
Hate being too kind,
Hate giving so much,
I even hate caring so much.
Sensitive to the light,
My shades stay on.
Forgive me, if I’m not the woman that you painted of me.
But I will not be ashamed of the woman that stares back at me.
Written By: Marquisha Applewhite
Check out her book, Behind the Smile and enjoy more of her inspirational quotes and poetry pieces! Available on Amazon, bit.ly/BehindtheSmile