C. Dawn Campbell Poems

It grabs us when we're not looking and makes us cry and scream. It makes us feel our blood is cooking, which is why that's what it'd seem.

People looking on, often look so calm. Before one is grown there are no thoughts of alm.
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When I was born in '72, I was colored insecure.
Thanks to Jesus Christ, I've now been colored pure.

I've been colored a mama.
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Split peas are cooking in the crock; our children have gone home.
The last week of '07, with them we walked. We're glad they're in our tome.

Our home's been filled with chatter. We're saddened they have left.
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This is our tale in all of its glory.
It's a tale of a Tennessee road-trip story.

As we headed east away from the fading sun;
the journey ensued had only begun.
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All throughout my childhood 'Aunt Nette' was there to smile and make me laugh. Of all the things I've been grateful for, one was that my 'Aunt Nette' I did have.

I was proud to push her wheelchair; she'd smile as we rolled.
That she'd be here forever's been my prayer; I'd hoped to see her old.
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My mind is very tired, but I would like to write.
There are so many things I'd like to try'n cite.

I'd like to spit it all out now.
I'd like to say it here.
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I miss you, Granddad. Someday I will see you.
I'm pleased part of my story is of things we once did do.

My favorite place was Dog Patch. You took us there so much.
I'm looking forward to getting to Heaven, where none of our words will punch.
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One day at Granny's house, my aunt harmed me bad.
That's the only time I've seen Granny, at her, mad.

We were acting silly, while playing with Q-tips.
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I‘ve thought and I've thought on this subject, you see. And the title that was chosen was done carefully.

It was the years of the 80s you should first find out. And the guy from the story, he was quite stout.
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We have a friend named Jimmy … whom we're proud of as we can be.
You're going to want to hear his story, as it involves "hard drugs" such as PCP.

Jimmy's opened up with us and shared parts of his soul.
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