Identity - Poem by Patricia Smith
He stole my heart, then my virginity and then he tried to steal my identity.
It’s two in the morning and I have cried until I have no more tears.
Can’t call my momma, can’t call daddy or any of my peers.
Can’t reveal to any of them my greatest fear – that the man
I thought would love and cherish me wants to hurt me.
I’m strong, I tell myself, I can take it; maybe he’ll change and won’t desert me.
For he’s my husband and I made a promise before God: ‘Til death do us part.
But look at what he’s done to my heart!
What am I doing? This is not me. I’m intelligent, fearfully and wonderfully made.
But now I’m thinking of all those other women who stayed.
Stayed because they thought they had no choice.
If I stay and try to change him, does that mean I have no voice?
I know God’s promises: He said I will never give you more than you can bear.
You are My temple, I dwell in you – your needs will be supplied – I care.
I cried out to Him: Lord, please take this cup from me, if it is Thy will.
I ache all over, my heart is heavy. I have all this love I need to share.
This cup, I’m finding, is too hard to for me to bear.
Can’t You see I’m in a state of despair?
God heard my plea and knew the desire of my heart:
Someone who will love me, who will not depart.
Man can hurt my flesh and bones and even my soul;
But my spirit belongs to God; therefore, I know I must be bold.
Identity, identity. I must maintain my identity.
I cannot allow this man to steal MY individuality.
Then I learned that the love of my life was growing inside of me.
Could this be God’s plan? His plan to use and prosper me?
Now I know that He has kept me to bless me; and this is my TESTIMONY.
No more heartache, no more tears and definitely no more fear!
He tried so hard to steal my identity.
But I will not allow him to steal our seed’s.
I know MY God will give me the victory.
The generational curse lingering over my seed
WILL be broken and God’s blessings he shall receive.
God’s love surrounds me, protects me.
Yes, He will give me victory
And I will forever give His name the praise, the honor and the glory.
What have I learned from this fall?
It’s that identity really doesn’t matter at all.
God is with me and in me, I am His seed.
He is all the identity that my seed and I will ever need.
So you see, what that man tried steal
God revealed to me is no big deal.
Now, Lord, I am available. Use me for your glory.
And that’s the end of the identity story.
Comments about Identity by Patricia Smith
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Patricia Smith's Other Poems
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You