Stubborn

Fri, 11/01/2013 - 17:08 -- chouMee

Location

You can tell she has a heart of gold.

Outside it appears to be the opposite.

She refuses to rise above the struggle.

She refuses to take help from anyone.

It hurts me to see her stay stagnant,

When I know she deserves to be flying high.

To be drinking wine made out of the finest gold.

Instead she’s drinking kool-aid from a 99 cent plastic cup.

Kool-aid is far from wine and that’s not fine.

This is not what a queen deserves.

 

She refuses to take a helping hand, let alone advice from anyone.

We tell her that there’s more to life than a nine-to-five.

She tells us there’s more to life than making big bucks and driving fancy cars.

All she wants is prayers and mass on Sundays.

How long can a person continue to pray when it seems those prayers are never going to be answered.

We want so much to take her away from the dirty concrete floors of Flatbush.

There’s nothing good that comes out of working hard for little pay.

She says that God is on her side and she’ll be alright.

Where’s this God when you come home late exhausted and barely able to hold yourself up?

She says this God is the reason she’s able to stand at all.
 

She complains about how hard she has to work yet still she refuses to take help from others, not even her own children.

She looks so fragile.

It is as if her bones are too weak to hold her together.

That’s what happens when a woman is so used to holding the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Maybe she’s afraid of what might happen once she puts the weight down.

She’s too stubborn to let us hold the weight for her.

Too stubborn to let us pick her up once she falls.

She’s become a problem that refuses to be solved.

She’d rather stay unanswered while she holds the weight of being the mother and provider at the same time.

Guide that inspired this poem: 

Comments

Need to talk?

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741