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Woryeneh Benson September 11, 2008 Boulevard Once upon a time…. sike naw I was walking down the boulevard with many Books at hand Bag Lady Yes Indeed Across the street left of me I saw a woman on the sidewalk walking with The same pace of speed. As I walked forward and she went backward I noticed we were both pretty But didn’t always feel beautiful. Cherished simple things For only a moment Only thing was different was our visibility She had no shoes on her feet Worn more scars than clothing We both wore shorts but her’s were Tight showing a revealing shape As if she wanted a male to feel welcome to seek For a while Had we worn a smile to wear We both were disturbed on how Loneliness and emptiness can manipulate your pride And leave you in despair To wonder why those you love don’t even care Her name is She because I don’t know her name But I can feel identical pain Didn’t Greet! Didn’t Speak? Didn’t Look! I only glanced because probably she would curse at me On the Boulevard Dreams look broking You are far from home You need to be careful of who you hold Living with pain is like breathing after you committed suicide She reminded me how to respect myself So many things I have seen that she hasn’t


Woryeneh Benson September 11, 2008

You can’t respect someone who doesn’t respect themselves They won’t respect you for who you are She wasn’t walking for long Black Escalade SUV pulled to the curb You know with the rims all shiny She went to the car didn’t hesitate to stall for the car I watched how she let her dreams fall I’m into my institution her intuition is into prostitution The rose of the blues that grew out of the garden Is still dead. Later in the future we did pass singing the same song. I still have faith because when I get off I reach Mary McLeod Bethune’s resting place.


Blvd.