18000
Dear Ms. P,
If my two quarters mean anything, I know you've had many men
Men who've used an abused you, left you stranded without an end
You've been looked at wrongly, your influence comes across as soft but they've turned you into something else
They changed your name to fit their liking and their profession
And so have I, I hate that I had to word it that way but that was just me trying to usher in my confession
They used you to make money, as if you were a concession
And it seems that their perverse words and poor intellect lead to you doing everything but progressing
But me, I admired you
Cause no matter how much they tried, they could never fire you
You've always had constant work
They used you to get out the message and gave them a new hustle and a new way to move their work
And what did you get in return?
You got burned
They wanted your intimacy but was sleeping with the devil too
They misued what got them their wealth and became fools
They never gave you credit but moreover your tools
And just like the Israelites in the bible,
They worship the created and not the creater. Give none of their love to the finished worked but all to the pencils
Ms. Poetry, im sorry for the way you were mistreated
Just like the Black woman in America, you were something they tried their hand at defeating
But you gave me hope
I dont need to believe in a diety or a pope
I'll believe in you, Ms. Poetry, cause you gave me a chance to cope.
