Angry with GOD

I took a drink it burns my throat

And chest and cools my pain

I have no shame

I feel nothing all the same

Cold in freezing tears staining the many faces 

Of my short young years.I have no place,no right.

No right to even write this but at times I be angry with God.

It seems so much easier to believe in nothing

Dark days and dreary nights

Black spirits,zombies,lost souls all part of the plot in my fate

I bemoan at times my hard head flamboyant

Cross dressing ,open,black fiercely independent

Lonely existence

I reminisce about an almost perfect childhood for a young Black kid from Harlem

I reminisce about being the top student,the most hated

Envied,the most misunderstood

The love of myself I think I have replaced with the love 

Of others that’s something different altogether

The drink bubbles in my stomach looking out at the dark ,lonely nights and I 

Have no right to be angry with GOD

Written late summer 2010 Thelma Black

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