Lawrence S. Pertillar
Jada Pinkett-Smith - Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
I hear your words.
And feel them clearly.
So deep has the object,
Taken to represent and symbolize...
Been used to abuse,
What we have excused to de-value.
Our own lives!
To allow it done.
For the fun and entertainment.
We have undermined ourselves,
To have others in positions...
Dismiss our greatness.
Even 'Us' for decades shown,
Have degraded our efforts to endeavor...
To perpetuate and escalate self hatred.
As we sat to watch other folks,
Fill their pockets nonstop.
While 'we' supported the killing of our opportunities.
And the light that shines in our own minds.
To believe with the giving of time,
THEY, THEM and others we have accused...
Will awaken, one day, to know what it is like,
To walk a tightrope.
With it done wearing our shoes.
With all due respect,
And you deserve all of it that you can get...
You and I both know,
Those days 'aint' here to happen.
You and I both know,
The causes and effects of kept ignorance.
Your message so clear,
And free of delusions...
Makes it obvious to the ones,
What we have permitted done to ourselves.
And at a cost to have lost,
Identities, integrities, purpose and self awareness.
Just to obtain lives to live without maintained gains.
Or have it known to show,
A paid silence to keep...
Does not validate deceptions.
Until 'we' begin to feel and see,
With honesty felt and truth to speak...
We can expect more of the same to receive.
During these times as people begin to examine beliefs...
Clarity will be found in minds and with necessity,
To stop an addiction to defeat our own endeavors.
With it to acknowledge,
From where we have learned...
Such destructive lessons we have taught to teach.
To then preach to accept so effectively.
Minds will change.
Or become more deranged.
But then again...
Who is it are we wanting with wishes to imitate?
Comments about Jada Pinkett-Smith by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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