My bronx
America. Shut up. Dare to observe us in silence. Get away from the 5 o’clock news and come live with us. For years, not for two weeks – and then you can talk. Our women are strong. Our men are capable. Men, us women are strong. What you got down there, we have it up here, and two more in here, ovaries. Don’t you dare to call us weak. Women, don’t you dare put that head down on anyone. My Bronx, look, the world is calling you. Walk for the ones that don’t. It’s okay to cry— to cry for the ones that don’t and wouldn’t. Forgive for the ones that won’t, for the ones that believe they can throw the next rock, for the ones that believe they can look at the speck of others eyes and not consider their own plank. Hypocrite. Get in my shoes and then you can talk. Live my life and then you can talk. Feel what I feel and then you can talk. Look back at yours and, yeah, Then shut up. Because no knows what you go through. Don’t look at me pretending you know because