Letter To Ms. P

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.