May I concern myself with the poverty that has concerned her.
I will write for her sake at times, for it conflicts me that she is still often defined solely by the quality of her womb.
I will write of my frailty in this regard... for I too sometimes only see her that way.
And so I will present honesty pieces of my eternity short lived, not for my reader's sake, but my own.
For I will not to have to look back tomorrow and doubt the cognitive conflict I am going through.
I reflect on the works of my predecessors and I am inspired.
I acknowledge modern day role-players and contemporaries.
I feed off the energy of my peers as we share stories of our backgrounds together.
I will write of the common goals and champion the common cause we have.
We are black.
I will write what affects me.
I will write that it may affect others.
I write out unto my saviours and in hope, I hope, that in the process I will save others.
I write as one who has heard the war cry.
With pens and thumbs beating the drums to the sound for the call to arms.
I join the mob assembling with 'QWERTY' pads and keyboards declaring the blood of those who died revolting.
I uncover the truth behind the jests...how we have embraced the omission of certain parts of their language medium.
It serves as a parable to me: that there will always be something missing- my speech feeds off the criticism it receives.
I am the subject of my writings.
They are paragraphs of a vision.
They are narratives of a single eye beholding the answers within a question.
I am conflicted.
I write to afflict my confliction.
I write to remedy my crisis.
I write for the sanity of my person.
I write to be at peace with myself.
Beyond the objectivity of rational thought and cogent arguments...I will write because I have found it okay to be otherwise.
