Poetry for the Soul

It is time we get some unity

I say to my brothers we are not your enemy

It is time you treat us like the queens we are suppose to be

I know some time we may argue and complain

But that still gives you no right to call us out of our name

Don’t call us chicken heads, pigeons, hoes, and bitches

We are the ones who listen to all your dreams and wishes

We are your sisters, wives, daughters, and mothers

We are your associates, friends, and your lovers

Even when the odds against us seem stack

My brothers you can count on us to have your back

To hate on each other is such a waste

We are down with you when you do well or even if you catch a case

That is why the sisters are the backbone of the black race