Throwing Stones Poem by Denice Woods

I am a woman
Weak, willful
Deceitful to some
The world shows me no mercy.
I have meager means
The government loves to keep me trapped in this inner-city urban biodome
This petri dish
They use to experiment with
That I call home.
Throwing stones.
If it ain't one thing it's another.
My job don't pay enough
The kids don't help
When I had those kids I was a child myself Throwing stones
Mama didn't have time
Baby bro
Was slow
Daddy didn't want me
So off to alcohol and drugs
I go
Throwing stones
Never knew how a man's
Love was supposed to feel
To me it was verbal and physical assault
Love me with words, fists, straps or steel
Throwing stones
I am so tired,
Still so broken,
My heart is bleeding
Even though I'm mending
My scars are still wide open
The pain still so deep
I no longer find sanctuary
In slumber
So close to being stoned to death
Too close to six feet under
And they keep throwing stones.