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I Didn't Quite Understand It At The Time

No tolerance do I have,
For those who show their gratefulness...
With their hands out.

I appreciate those having less than others.
I grew up like that myself.
But I always witnessed my mother doing things!
And they were always for someone else.

And my grandparents were wizards.
To this day no one can explain,
What they did and how that was done.
And my motivation comes from them.
Taking nothing for granted!
With no expectations from anyone!

No tolerance do I have,
For those who show their gratefulness...
With their hands out.

I saw my father's blistered hands.
From working with hot iron in the foundry.
He once had said he was cursed for being black.
And my mother he called 'high yellow'!
Saying she was 'lucky' for that.

But these 'traps' of having less,
And inflicting self defeat...
Was not a way I intended to look at life.
Not when I had dreams,
To be free of limitations and to write.
Sometimes it was said to me...
'Oh, he think he's white! '
By those totally brainwashed...
To live in ignorance.
Unmotivated and uptight!

No tolerance do I have,
For those who show their gratefulness...
With their hands out.

Nor do I hold a high regard...
For those on their knees in churches.
When a church in my own hometown,
Told my mom she could no longer play piano for them...
Because she didn't have a college degree.
Union Baptist is that 'joint'.
Where those of pretensions speak of their pedigrees.
And how proud they were to have slave masters!
Sick jackasses.

I especially despise those who claim they created something.
When thieves of dreams are all they are.
The only thing they've established...
Are ruined lives and a place where family members,
Can fill their plates off of government grants...
Solicited to aid the community and uphold a unity!
That BS has created urban nests of poverty.

I was told one day I was embittered,
By someone who had a silver spoon shoved up his ass!
And this dude knows nothing about having wants or needs at all.
He may have whims to fulfill!
But he is without guts driven by motivation.
Few do!
I just do not view them sipping on cocktails.

No tolerance do I have,
For those who show their gratefulness...
With their hands out.
And I let them know it!

You will get from me my critique...
If you aren't willing to sweep the streets to eat.
I've grown up to go without.
Just to provide for someone else!

'Thank you, ma!
I am forever blessed,
With that teaching of your lesson!
I didn't quite understand it at the time.
But so clear do I see now! '

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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