Growing up
She wasn’t exactly poor
Her family managed to scrape by
Because Her mother was a doer
She’d only known men
To be lazy and worthless
In her young mind
Women had to be strong and ambitious
Watching her mother
Strive toward success
She knew there’d be a time
When she’d too be put to the test
Each relationship
She seemed to have
Was with a man
Without a plan
She didn’t mind
To her it was the norm
Poor lost souls
Didn’t know why they were born
As she grew older
And met better men
She soon realised
She was worth a ten
All the years
Doing as her mother did
Taking care of things
And getting neglected
It has to stop
The vicious cycle
Needs to come to an end
Or she’d be stuck like chicle
When her last relationship ended
A little voice inside her spoke
“it’s over now, we’re done
We can’t ever again do broke”
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