The elderly refinery where growing older graciously, and gratefully lives,
This is where my critical race theory originated and resides,
Being born a feminine, has not been the easiest premise to embrace,
Not even to be embraced by others, of some, more than others,
There are those who have made this a bearable journey,
Those who have not contributed just do not understand struggle,
It is both complex and critical, race being only defined by color of skin,
What? Being a girl, a woman, a daughter, color can never define,
Daughter, in a world of sons, is there justice, or the cry for equality?
There is no desire in me to be equal with or to son, I am daughter,
He does not seem to recognize me but as girl or woman,
Not merely the woman, but for temporary pleasures relationship offers,
My debut into the world is daughter, although, it is a girl, was the announcement,
The day of birth, processing within time granting an after date to remember only,
I am the daughter of the father's and I am the father's daughter,
I am the mother's daughter, I am the son's sister, I am the sister's sister.
I am not a daughter's or a son's mother, I am daughter!
I came as daughter, and this I will be until my breath is no more,
Death could not stop the role, sting death did,
Therefore did it end the parental accompaniment,
Son takes delight in being what? a son,
It is personal, not for me, I am daughter!
It is per-daughternal,
I am no woman liber, I am a daughter liber,
How easy it was to forget being a daughter, why?
I became woman! there seems to be a drastic difference,
From daughter girl, to woman daughter,
How could I forget? Now, that they whom the daughter role thrived,
Are gone away, yet, daughter is not gone,
I am a daughter, a treasured role, a father joy, but mother's grief,
I have learned to love being daughter,
Just because of him, who? Jesus Christ, of course,
He loved being his Father's son,
Inspiring me to be "daughter",
Who am I, just one daughter taking my stand.
© 2021 mabelhenry