The Strong Black Woman is Dead- Please Read...Very Powerful!!

Please note that the following piece of writing I did not write. The author is unkown so I am just spreading the news!

You might want to meditate on this one...This is a poem that every Black person should read and present to every Black woman you know. It's really deep and should be read when you have the time to honestly inhale it...

The Strong Black Woman is Dead...

On August 15, 1999, at 11:55 p.m., while struggling
With the reality of being a human instead of a myth, the
strong black woman passed away.
Medical sources say she died of natural causes, but those
who knew her know she died from being silent when she
should have been screaming, milling when she should have
been raging, from being sick and not wanting anyone to know
because her pain might inconvenience them.

She died from an overdose of other people clinging to her
when she didn't even have energy for herself. She died
from loving men who didn't love themselves and could only
offer her a crippled reflection. She died from raising
children alone and for not being able to do a complete job.
She died from the lies her grandmother told her mother and
her mother told her about life, men & racism. She died
from being sexually abused as a child and having to take
that truth everywhere she went every day of her life,
exchanging the humiliation for guilt and back again.

She died from being battered by someone who claimed to love
her and she allowed the battering to go on to show she
loved him too. She died from asphyxiation, coughing up
blood from secrets she kept trying to burn away instead of
allowing herself the kind of nervous breakdown she was
entitled to, but only white girls could afford.

She died from being responsible, because she was the last
rung on the ladder and there was no one under her she could dump
on.
The strong black woman is dead.
She died from the multiple births of children she never
really wanted but was forced to have by the strangling
morality of those around her. She died from being a mother at 15 and a grandmother at 30 and an ancestor at 45.

She died from being dragged down and sat upon by un-evolved women posing as sisters.
She died from pretending the life she was living was a
Kodak moment instead of a 20th century, post-slavery nightmare!

She died from tolerating Mr.Pitiful, just to have a man
around the house. She died from lack of orgasms because she
never learned what made her body happy and no one took the
time to teach her and sometimes, when she found arms that
were tender, she died because they belonged to the same gender.

She died from sacrificing herself
for everybody and
everything when what she really wanted to do was be a
singer, a dancer, or some magnificent other.
She died from lies of omission because she didn't want to
bring the black man down. She died from race memories of
being snatched and raped and snatched and sold and
snatched
and bred and snatched and whipped and snatched and worked
to death.

She died from tributes from her counterparts who should
have been matching her efforts instead of showering her
with dead words and empty songs. She died from myths that
would not allow her to show weakness without being
chastised by the lazy and hazy.
She died from hiding her real feelings until they became
hard and bitter enough to invade her womb and breasts like
angry
tumors. She died from always lifting something from
heavy boxes to refrigerators.

The strong black woman is dead.
She died from the punishments received from being honest
about life, racism & men. She died from being called a
bitch for being verbal, a dyke for being assertive and a
whore for picking her own lovers. She died from never being
enough of what men wanted, or being too much for the men
she wanted. She died from being too black and died again
for not being black enough. She died from castration every
time somebody thought of her as only a woman, or treated
her like less than a man.
She died from being misinformed about her mind, her body &
the extent of her royal capabilities. She died from knees
pressed too close together because respect was never part
of the foreplay that was being shoved at her.

She died from loneliness in birthing rooms and aloneness in
Abortion centers. She died of shock in courtrooms where she
sat, alone, watching her children being legally lynched.
She died in bathrooms
with her veins busting open with
self-hatred and neglect. She died in her mind, fighting
life racism, & men, while her body was carted away and
stashed in a human warehouse for the spiritually mutilated.
And sometimes when she refused to die, when she just
refused to
give in she was killed by the lethal images of
blonde hair, blue eyes and flat butts, rejected by the
O.J.'s, the Quincy's, & the Poitiers.
Sometimes, she
was stomped to death by racism & sexism,
executed by hi-tech ignorance while she carried the family
in her belly, the community on her head, and the race on
her back!

The strong silent, talking black woman is dead!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Or is she still alive and kicking?????????????? I can only question, to seek answers....Black women tell me what you think?

Author unknown

Is the strong black woman really dead?

Contrary to what you may believe, she actually is alive, well and more beautiful than you could possibly imagine!

www.last.fm/music/Mashman