My Brother

My brother, this poem was not composed of
As way to degrade you.
But as a method of desperation to awaken you.
Contrary to the strong emotions this will invoke.
This poem was not written by a feminist,
Nor a bitch.
Just a girl who has a few things to get off her chest.
So please take a second to listen
And not protest.

My brother,
Why do you undress me with your eyes?
Invade my personal space with your body?
And be little me with your words
Whenever I choose to exercise a little sex appeal?

My brother,
Why do you step all over my dreams?
Crushing with your familiar words of
Why bother going to Collage or University?
You know your going to be nothing but a house wife.
Not only demeaning,
And attempting to deprive me of being an intellect.
But also devaluing me as the woman,
Who will not only cook and clean for you,
But will also wipe the ass
Of the sexist little boy you help to create.
Also, frustrating and causing me to retaliate on you,
By telling you,
That unlike you
I did not enrol in a 10 year program.
Mine is 4.

My brother,
Why do you try so hard to tap ass yourself?
However, refuse to marry a girl with a taped ass.
I really hate to burst your bubble,
I really do.
But Somali is running awfully low
On the supplies of virgins to offer to man coming from overseas.
Feel free to hold onto that dream though.
But until that day comes,
Let me see if I have it straight.
I either give in to your tired lines,
And weak touches.
Or you’re going to pull the trigger
On the loaded lethal image of blonde hair,
Blue eyes,
And flat butts your hold over my head.
I think I’ll pass.

My brother,
I can tell you to continue to hate on me,
Because my vagina is too narrow for your big ego to fit though anyways.
But I can’t!
I mean let’s get real!
I can stop you from following so called trend setters like Jay Z.
But I just want to explain to you
That I am more than a distraction,
Or a problem.
Nor can I be one of your 99 bitches.
I am just simply your mother’s friend Hawa’s daughter Halima
Take it or leave it.
BUT, I sincerely hope you take it.
Because I am not ready to give up on you my brother.
I was created out of your rib,
Not to be a separate entity.
But for you and I to complete one another.
For me to hold you in high regards.
Knowing that you would try your best
To make sure I never hit a rock bottom low.
From the lyrics of Angie Stone to my mouth.
You are my black brother.
My strong brother.
I put no one above you my Somali brother.
But I want you to take a second
And do the same for me.
Take it’s as a humble request,
Or a desperate plea.


Copyright © 2009 by Hayat Magan. All Rights Reserved