War

28 Feb 2001

Each moment war is waged
this soul in continual conflict
to leash chaos
and create structure
for this black and white girl.
Tested again and again
by married men, married women
who see some beauty
in this worn soul
jaded heart
agéd body
that they yearn to touch.
They do so love me bad
fraught with this pain
and tense with sexuality
they say I exude 
like wine from my skin;
yet, they do not want me good
full of sunshine and joy
and the hope of a future.
Wage this war on each day
when I sit through the tedium
of a day full of wasted moments
and wrongful information
that bleeds my soul dry
of all the goodness that could be
and the sweet gentleness
of a girl that could be joy.
Furrowed brow of anguish
as I fight the wars
petty battles and horrid infighting
that tears the fabric of this life
asunder. 


© 2001, Tara Tambolleo