“Who thinks her money talks louder than her womanhood” ….whew, this line!
To my momma,
Who has swallowed the amerikan dream
And chocked on it
To my momma,
Whose dreams have fought each other—
And died.
Who sees,
But cannot bear to see.
A volcano eating its own lava.
To my momma, who couldn’t turn
Hell into paradise
And blamed herself.
Who has always seen
Reflected in her mirror
An ugly duckling.
To my momma,
Who makes no demands of anyone
Cause she don’t think she can afford to.
Who thinks her money talks
Louder than her womanhood.
To my butchfem momma,
Who has always
Taken care of business
Who has schemed so much
She sometimes schemes against herself.
To my sweet, shy momma.
Who is uneasy with people
Cause she don’t know how
to be phony
And is afraid to be real
Who has longed for sculptured gardens
Whose potted plant
Dies slowly on the window sill
We have all been infected
With sickness
That can be traced back
To the auction block
To My Momma by Assata Shakur
The PBS Blog 