I put pen to paper and let my words take flight in hopes that it just might touch somebody’s life.
I dream of things that are unseen.
So I talk to God at night.
I ask him what can I bring to the table
Because I must admit, I’m not perfect.
Just a woman searching for the light.
It doesn’t seem bright
but I fight.
He told me it’s at the end of the tunnel.
So what if I fumble?
Trials and tribulations are there to make you humble.
So when they push me against the wall I won’t crack.
I will remember that I am the legacy of powerful men and women that sat in the back.
My words are my attack
And that’s a fact.