Mama’s Baby… Daddy’s Maybe Bayyyybbbeee

So Here it is in the land of what ain’t right, try as we might to not hold the grudge to judge. Not snare a nose up to the others in falter of steps. Yet today I will follow my heed and complete the need to speak freely on the heffa population who make it hard for the true love, respect and loyal to the man in her heart female generation.

I try my best to stand with God and hold my head high and forgive those who bruise my spirit, those who have stolen from my light. Yet today my heart is wounded for another, for my from another mother brother.  His heart is breaking and caused a wave and quake to my soul. For a minute I was ready to catch a case. Ready to dock my wholesome change and rearrange my alphabet and teach a lesson old school style. Pulling my hair in to a ponytail, donning the heels and slipping into some running shoes.. Vaseline lining my pecan hue skin. I had a fight on my brain. Her face was wearing my fist and calling it by name. Begging me to release my fury. It wasn’t just for him, but for me as well. So many of us girls are looking for a man who loves us, will hold our hand if we ever have to sit on the edge of mattress love nest, and spill a truth that life grows within, especially if the daddy is not a husband, more just the lover kind. The kind that leave us unsure if his words and his actions will met up in the court of mutual affections. If the man is one day away from saying goodbye and the period that is suppose to conclude the sentence, and identify that this fate was just a date gone awry.

Many woman have been beaten with the expectations of a man’s desire to do the right thing. So many have lost that war the consequence of single motherhood, aborting the decisions of new life with a knife and others have been unselfish and given those children to other homes, yet many children are left in the arms of social workers who usher them to houses of love unwanted.

So you would see the bitter taste of disdain and disgrace as my phone rings to find my favorite guy friend calling to conform what I unfortunately already knew that his ex girlfriend, ex problem had lied about the new born baby he was told was his was indeed not and like that we are experiencing the in real life Maury show’s… You are not the baby daddy finale show and I could feel my heartbeat quicken as I begged of him to not take on this heart ache this deliberate heart break and lose faith in the us kind, the female kind, the gaping female intrusion interlaced fascination.  While I heaved and wanted to penetrate her understanding with slanderous words and murderous verbal slayings he just says, what can I do, and what would hurting her do with words of malice and hate. I thin cried silent tears for my old friend. A young man adult and fine, my best friend… a man who had picked me up on low days with words of support and love, the friend that my old bestie loved more than anything else back in our high school days. IN the midst of the anger and pain I felt, the hue of hate that lingered for this woman, I felt pride and admiration. My best friend had become a man wonder, a super hero, a model type pristine type fella for whom I would take bullets, for whom I would vindicate. My pulse quickens with the thought that some beautiful soul will miss her soul mate because one woman was selfish, unkind, unjust and just plain wrong, so i play him a song of love and a prayer of faith. Don’t leave love at the front door I beg to God for him, because a man like him deserves a woman wonder, a woman better than me, but who loves him with that same intensity who would not allow pain to reach his heart. For love is truly a lost art.

So this is for the mama’s with babies whom daddy is still just a thought of maybe he or maybe him. Be kinder to your body and be kinder to your soul. Most of all remember you just upped the ante, a dealt another card of life to the Poker table and your importance has become less. If you cared  a little more for you, and less for what… maybe a nut… you wouldn’t need to be victim or hero, demon or saint.  Even if you have to do it alone, make the least desirable of places  a home, even when it seems like tho you laid in a bed not by yourself but might have to raise the baby alone, that the baby, the child, that new life that beats is the one that will be casualty of the ware you rage…. So not just to the baby mamas who have lied to a man but the ones where it started off all love like narcotic style vibrations and invitations, ore even the accidental night of heat.. these men who actually do what’s right with all they have, and all their might… be kind to them, be honest and be true… Cuz I am not so forgiving to you… for you are a reflection of women kind and I don’t do mine like that. I want to love a man, be his ride or die chick, and if I am the one that he ends up with, I am snapping the whip and no child be used as a pawn… and you don’t one like me around… because if it’s to see my man… it won’t be, no the only face you will see is mine, and don’t be mad if your child is wondering where I am instead of you. For in truth, here the child is the first place and never a competition, there is no superstition with this… To God I give my truth… and I am not lying I hate this type of shit.

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