MY MAHOGANY MUSE
By Bob McNeil
My Mahogany Muse,
Certain males
Try to malign and confine
Your Sojourner Truth mind.
However, you,
Sun-hot with fire,
Burn your way free.
My Mahogany Muse,
Once hellish hands
Exert their fervor to hurt,
You become water
And swan away.
My Mahogany Muse,
Soon as injustice
Attempts to choke us,
You become the air
That resuscitates with care.
My Mahogany Muse,
You are Scripture on Sundays
Giving the sum
From wealth-filled wisdom.
You are my Guidepost to Utopia
Providing angel-glazed rays.
My Mahogany Muse,
You prevent my descent
Each time I near
The Foolishness Abyss.
Blessedness is the bridge
You built for us to cross.
By Bob McNeil
My Mahogany Muse,
Certain males
Try to malign and confine
Your Sojourner Truth mind.
However, you,
Sun-hot with fire,
Burn your way free.
My Mahogany Muse,
Once hellish hands
Exert their fervor to hurt,
You become water
And swan away.
My Mahogany Muse,
Soon as injustice
Attempts to choke us,
You become the air
That resuscitates with care.
My Mahogany Muse,
You are Scripture on Sundays
Giving the sum
From wealth-filled wisdom.
You are my Guidepost to Utopia
Providing angel-glazed rays.
My Mahogany Muse,
You prevent my descent
Each time I near
The Foolishness Abyss.
Blessedness is the bridge
You built for us to cross.
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