My Brother…. Love Her like you love your Mother.
Since an embryo your memory of remembering each and every din’ and bin of your…. clothes and woes…. washed and consoled…should be woven into that closed mind sewn with h*es and what I suppose is relationship goals of….
A Bae who doesn’t speak…….born with a plate for you to eat…but Mama raised you better but the way that you behave you sleep……Pretending to be sick when chicks want more than STICK…more than SEEDS…more than CHIPS…………Only Mama gets the respect.
Bet you a dollar every time you holla it’s somebody’s Mama trying to raise a Daughter or Son but you call her something dumb cuz rejection ain’t fun but you project and expect instead of serve and protect…. Get swerved, you disrespect. Every word…is a threat……Then go home and kiss yo mama.
What would Mama think? …. Her baby boy is an emotional terrorist….Need a coach and a therapist. I mean bro, you hanging with bros who swing on folks like it’s expected. Domestic on international women they find majestic. Held hostage by his beliefs.
Even a doctor couldn’t have seen cuz he’s doctored all that you see. Pretending to be the good guy that you should be working to be. She a Queen, you a worker bee. Gone a day after you fork you leave.
Yeah, your Mama strong…but that’s only the wrongs she strapped on, caused harm when dealing with the alarms of being a Mom, mistreated when involved, beaten by jobs, while feeding you all, no sleep no weakness because if you weak you fall. Every week you crawl.
Strong isn’t a compliment…it’s an observation. Every Mom deserves proper payment. Pay your respects when they head out and sweat… cop a dress… bop and flex… drop em dead… instead of being that awkward kid, stalker-ish, cuz you don’t know how to talk to chicks.
That’s somebody’s Mother. Brother, we got to do better. Father issues fathered issues farther then the distance ya Mom would give you if She knew a part of what you did to other Moms being vengeful.
Every garden you ought to tend to. But when Harvest came, you caught a plane, left Her starving, now we all ashamed cuz love ain’t on the menu. You ain’t a lover? Don’t pretend to. You ran for cover with in(tent) to.
We normalized the sort of minds that turns hearts to porcupines. Call em bitter when they draw the line. Don’t get the big picture they posterize…(‘sposed to rise).
That’s somebody’s Mother. A doctor, coach, maid and chef, tutor and a mover, role model slash computer, goal topper, don’t need a suitor. So, when you suit up… You ain’t saving Her…you saving you.
Treat her with the respect of Mom dukes, something Moms would respond to. She a Mom like ya Mom too!
Crying battle of the sexes is sexist. You just can’t fathom the oppression.
When your mom the only exception!
So here’s what I tell my brothers……. Love Her like you love your Mother.
