These Jewels Have Been Misused Poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Sometimes in the back winds that blow...
I can hear my ancestors voices.
I sense their struggles and pain to maintain.
I see those same strains on faces of my color!
And I think of how these jewels have been so misused.
And it is said I am embittered.
I carry anger on my back like an overnight pack!
Pacing to dump it somewhere.
Disliking what my choices are!

Well...
I never saw my mama or my poppa jumping with glee
Wiping beads of sweat from their brows!
Their parents capture that picture!
I heard my daddy and mother saying what wasn't right.
And at Christmastime they would argue and fight...
Over why too much was to give with too little to none!
How I reminisce the fun years.

I admit I see injustice.
I admit I have to wade through a pool of ignorance.
I agree what I see I have taken personally.
I agree when folks stare at me I get a little annoyed...
Especially when I say hello and they say 'NO THING'!
That slightly gets me nudged to the 'edge'
And I agree hearing young people calling themselves
Out of their names and bring their mamas in it...
Kinda stands the hair on my back straight up!
BUT...
I do agree,
I have a lot to work on controlling my tolerance for BS!
It's at an all time low!
And I'm not going to go crazy about it.

I am alot like my grandfather.
He would go outside to the garage,
And begin to fix the engine of a truck he had,
For years!
At least for fifteen or twenty years,
I saw my grandfather work on the same engine.
I saw that truck move one time!
My uncles, cousins and I were pushing it...
And he was behind the wheel!