Tired Man

Shady blues up in this house
crazy fumes filtrate this home…
A pathetic hue of disgrace sits up
in my sofa…
Pouting her mouth and rolling her eyes-

all day long as she rants
and whines about anything
Pathetic nagging that now

i’m accustomed to.
Fake hair, acrylic nails,

body enhancements replaced

the home budget and our problems

became the beauty shop’s business-
I can’t even walk to the store these days

without the constant giggles, sneers and jeers.

A loud, obnoxious, insecure daughter

of eve mocks this tirade show.
Haunts and harasses my female colleagues and friends-
always looking for trouble and insulting my integrity.
A sarcastic flavor compliments her plump shape and glow

– as she recites Lucille Clifton’s “Homage to my Hips”…

a colorful boast she needs- “These hips are big hips…”
A sway in my face, a loud jeer to my ego.

Yes, she put on weight- almost ratchet.

Dirty floors, nasty bathroom and kitchen-

and empty bags and packets of take-outs

are my embrace after a long day at work…
Cold lonely showers i often take-
and nights on the sofa to last.
Through all the insults and demands, i still oblige…
For a tough love i still cherish.

She used to prepare the best fried chicken-

serve it hot with vegetables and sweet wine-
A smile that was infectious and accentuated her beauty
Her laughter used to fill up the house

as she dedicated her time and energy

to keep it beautiful and neat.
She used to respect me, as her man and partner
Listen and confide in me-
she understood the man that i am

but now she questions everything that i do or say.

Sweet love we often made- pillow talks after dark-

waking up to the silhouette on her face
Fresh coffee and pancakes
Damn, i’m broken and almost nostalgic-

What happened to my woman?
My respectful, intelligent, loving,

kind and amazing woman and partner…

Who is this vile creature under this fake hair,

fake eye lashes, traces of silicone

on her body, the pathetic make up and all?

The rabid dog that talks back at me
Swears all the time- always sniffing

and taking a bottle of something…

I’m a tired man…

In search of fulfillment,
an understanding…
Hope…

I’ve cried, yes. The tears of a tired man

bound by this shade of disgrace-
for the love, all for love, but now i want out…

I’m tired…
I’m out…
I’m leaving…

To the world, watch me step
To the females, watch another good man step
To my fellas, you know i tried
To my family, support my cause- i am too young to die

Divorce papers, legal proceedings…
She can have everything, but this tired man.

The smell of freedom.
567u

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Author: AfroetryC

I am an African woman and a mother to a precious little angel. I love to use the term "Afro-floetic Queen" mostly to describe my poetry and my roots. I love poetry...art, soul music and inspirational bits of knowledge to offer advice and counseling to those who need it. I can be very witty, straight forward but fun. Ha. ha... A colorful perception of the world - expressed in my poetry. I want to inspire people with my Poetry...give them hope, while also advising them. Life is a learning process and i am happy when one of my pieces directly affects or inspires one of my readers. Let's take a detour around experience, and let me fill your minds with sweet poetic juices.... Note: Just changed my user name from FloetryC to AfroetryC because the latter is more personal and describes my Spoken Word Poetry better.

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