Brown Pigments Behaves

This child bathes in her pigment,
this child shines in pigment.
Her mahogany, her light tan, her cocoa, her copper,
her sepia, her seinna skin liters and marks her path in life.
Her fingers are the instruments in which her dreams become a reality.
Her lips brings knowledge that can only be expressed,
by that beautiful source of power she posses.
The soles of her feet dries her to conquer the world!
Her body ignites the flames of fires that burn deep within her mind-
her true lover.
No one knows her or holds her together better.
Her layers,
her brown layers keeps all the her greatness held within,
keeps her from being dissected by the world.

                                              Sincerely Fay,

Time Waits Not

We only live in the moment,
that is all we're guaranteed.
We have no future,
the future is only a dream, what we hope to achieve.
We have past, we have history;
this is whats definite, that is sure.
We cannot change our past, though many only look back;
only seeing the stream of mistakes that have occurred.
Wishing to change something-they cannot.
So why then, when the opportunity presents itself;
do people not think before they do something.
How do you expect change to come,
if your actions are not pondered upon.
So the cycle repeats itself.
Making choices that are mistakes, looking back wishing to change it.
While the future is the only outlet in which,
we as people lay our dreams.
Our dreams that our choices should bring about.
So why in the present do we not think before we do,
to bring about the future we want.
This is what I've learned in my short life.

                                                                    Sincerely Fay,

A Sudden Epiphany

There are many seasons, many days, and nights.
There are lessons to be learned and taught.There are many mornings, many lights and fights.
We constantly complain about time,
It's never enough.


                   



Sincerely
Fay,

I was, I am, I who

To say you can't figure out who you are is all the proof I need.
We weren't made to conform and mold into society puppet,
We weren't built to have only one path,
We weren't designed to not make a difference.
We aren't the clay, we mold the clay that is our life.
To be the person we want and meant to be, not who we are to be.
It is so sad this is what I see today.
I was born and created to be a person who will make a difference, no matter how small or big.
I do not know how to get there, but I will.
I know getting there will be the hard yet fulfilling part of life.
This is who I am- I don't need to be accepted and rejection doesn't phase me.
Why should I worry about others perception of me, when they are just another person?
Why should I give them that power?
When you strip it all away I am just me and nobody exists that is exactly like me.
This is what I will teach my children.
           
                                                         Sincerely Fay,

Truths

Keep your held up,
because no one is going to do it for you.
Put one foot in front of the other,
that way you won't trip.
Stand strong- stay grounded,
because our roots are what makes us who we are.
Thank God because without him,
there would be no us...he is always there.
Stay true to yourself,
that does not include growing up-don't change your fundamentals.
That is all

                                 Sincerely Fay,

SILENCE IS A VIRTUE

Do you know how it feels to cry with no sound?
Pulling a blanket over her face so she can't see the shadows in her room.
A boy calling for his mother to come and rescue her from the overwhelming fists that rain down from a loved one.
A chubby child pushed over the edge by whispers and notes.
A human struggling with who they are popping pills to run away from it all.
A person too afraid to look in the mirror so instead they find comfort with the surface of a razor.
To a young man choosing to hit them books instead of women.
A girls' broken spirit tortured by a man's false promises.
A soul that is beyond another's mere discrimination.
A child heart whose thunderous beats will not be stamped out by the imperfect shoes of adults ideals.
A person who will not fear their parents rage, drinking all their pains away from the inside of the same bottle.
A father/mother who works to provide for the children sound asleep dreaming safely.
To that face who looks up and pray for another meal to come, but smile anyway when they get a penny.
To that young mom out there who holds it together even though the odds are against her, for the sake of her child.
To that kid who dreams big and stands tall no matter what they had to face in the past.
To a person who draws with their soul, a person who write to tell a story within their spirit, a person who dance and sing because they are free.
To all these people all around the world, your silent cries have been heard.

They Say What Naught They Know

               They say its locked up,
                in a holding cell.
              Buried ten feet deep,
                behind a brick wall.
              Covered in blood,
               beats numbed by pain.
            They say it don't exist,
                 because I'm too cold.
             Because Its all alone,
               behind those stones.
            That's what they seem to say.
               But they don't know,
        solitude is silence and silence is peace.
             That it's not chained down,
                its waiting to be released.
                It's underground,
           rising as bright as the sun.
            Beating like a drum,
Covered in the gold it outlines my soul.
               It is there, it exists,
Its past was etched in blacked, but its future unclaimed.
            Blood symbolize energy and life,
       not something as easy as pain.
It's relevant, It scare them cause' of things It is.
  It is  intelligent, beautiful, peaceful, caring, free, untamed,
          It is one spirit, one soul, one mind.
Some people refuse to believe in things they don't want to know.
       They say what will happen to it, now?
      Its a survivor, a trooper-it never gives up......
                      It is me.
                Who is "me"?
Look at your own reflection and answer- who are you?

                    -Sincerely Fay,