Her arms semaphore fat triangles,
Pudgy HANDS bunched on layered hips
Where bones idle under years of fatback
And lima beans.
Her jowls shiver in accusation
Of crimes cliched by Repetition.
Her children, strangers
To childhood’s TOYS, play
Best the games of darkened doorways,
Rooftop tag, and know the slick feel of
Other people’s property.
Too fat to whore,
Too mad to work,
Searches her dreams for the
Lucky sign and walks bare-handed
Into a den of bereaucrats for her portion.
‘They don’t give me welfare.
I take it.’
(Maya Angelou)
More Poetry from Maya Angelou:
Maya Angelou Poems based on Topics: Children, Fate & Destiny, Work & Career, Games, Property, Crime- On The Pulse Of Morning (Maya Angelou Poems)
- Human Family (Maya Angelou Poems)
- The Health-Food Diner (Maya Angelou Poems)
- Preacher, Don't Send Me (Maya Angelou Poems)
- Old Folks Laugh (Maya Angelou Poems)
- Savior (Maya Angelou Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Fate & Destiny Poems, Work & Career Poems, Children Poems, Crime Poems, Games Poems, Property PoemsBased on Keywords: people, arms, walks, bones, give, know, childhood, fat, years, don, play