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White Hope in Black America by Stephen A. Dantes

Her name was, Hope
She was a pretty girl from the islands
And as the name does say
There was an expectation of desire in her eyes
She would spend both day and night fantasizing
And visualizing ways where life would be good to her
An actualization that kept her breathing
Kept her living
And holding unto a promise of
A means to an end
Her name was, Hope

So she bought her plane ticket and left with
Some oversized luggage after saying a few
Goodbyes to the people she considered family
A few sad byes to friends who were friendly; see
The movies played on the plane tried to sensationalize her journey
But Hope had her eyes set on the prize only
No more rainy July’s or sad stories,
All she wanted was to make that money

She had no lottery skills or schemes so
She was sticking to her plans
Maybe get a guy who buys or even
One who is willing to marry
One named Mike or one named Larry

And in the places where her resources failed she’d improvise
For in this new land of freedom she had
No real friends or allies and
She was not willing to jeopardize
Never giving any answers to strangers who pry as
She relied only on the truth of her story
She was shoulders for a suffering family and
The golden ticket to financial stability and her
Yearn remained insatiable

And though the night sky was not as bright as
The glow in her eyes when
She started chasing the paper
It was not surprising when her heart was materialize
And the desire consumed her
But as she, Hope
Would find out the hard way
The struggle of the great American dream is
Really not on Broadway
Maybe for others, but
Definitely, definitely not her way

The obstacles she faced from the
Dirty South to the Big Apple
Love roller coasters,
Smiles and frowns with
Serious people and even those clowning around, those who
Took bites off her patience to spoil her days and
Play around a lil bit with her conscience those
Obstacles left and internal mark that darkened her heart the
Late hours began to change into topless showers with
Dollar bills and metal poles, rubber suites and clear heels as
Her soul’s light began to fade and darkness covered her innocence her
Actions became more desperate
More irately emotional without substance

Night pubs turned into hot tubs as
Her body became her only asset and also
Only liability in her quest for financial freedom
Though the irony is not in her name,
But that she chose to become a slave to the system in an effort to become free
She placed shackles on her body and threw away the keys her
Morals concreted six feet under the footsteps of her pride with the
Passion she once held close to her heart gone

Gone with her dignity and the virgin eyes that melted onlookers
Eyes that were windows to her innermost being, her
Soul that thing that made her whole, but
When the lights went out it
Unleashed a persona that was locked from the world in daylight
A nocturnal heiress with venomous grip on each bite
Her heart lost purity on each fight,
Each late night shenanigan,
Each wrong made right
Each temporary promise with a permanent rite

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