Hello Family It’s Me
Hello, my real name is Sharonda Juanita Briggs, and that is my picture, when I started I didn't know I had to desquise me.
Let me introduce myself to all my family in the Prose. I am the person that love the way you all write and I love being recognized as someone that writes with my heart instead of for show. I love to write. I hated English, but I love my Teacher. I was the only black person in her class and the majority of my classes in high school. Yet, for all of my three years being there I was the only student asked to come back to her class until I graduated. That taught me that it's not your color but your Flare. I loved high school regardless of the circumstances, and believe it or not I only had one prejudice encounter and that was my accounting teacher. She loved making fun of me every day because I was the only black person in her class. But I am the type of person that speaks my mind, and if it's not right, I will tell you it's not right. I told my counselor and she let me do my work from her office the rest of the school year. I had no choice but to pass me, even though she gave me the hardest work she could find. I graduated from her class with an "A-". And my counselor said she didn't have to put the minus on my report card, but she did. I dedicated my doing well, to people like her with that negativity. "You pull me down, and I going to fight that much harder and more to come back up!" I graduated from a Confederate school. I met the nicest people. I am a firm believer that they should leave our statues up of the Confederate soldiers and people. I feel that they are Someone Grandparents and rather we like what they stood for or not, they were still loved by someone then and now. And we were not here then to carry feeling about what happened. That's just my opinion and I really don't care who agrees with me. I have several races in my family and we love each other no matter what. Well, that's how I feel about Prose. Everyone here is so different, but we can all RELATE. This is how I feel about hatred, If you had a glass with old orange juice in the bottom and you wash it out, the glass can be used again and start over. But If you let it rot in the bottom and never remove it, eventually the glass is ruined and you will have to throw it away, and there is no starting over. Simple business. I despise bullies! I wish they put them out of school forever and make them homeschool only. Leave that negativity at home where it started from. Let the children that want a better life continue with all the help they can get without confusion. On another note, I am a 53-year-old woman that was born with arthiritis that loves cartoons. I love comic books and I calm down to color pictures. I have written/illustrated/published 5 children books so far, and I am almost finished another book coming out in November. I don't like drama and ignore negative people. I am the type of person that cares if someone is feeling down. It bothers me. If I can say something to you to bring you up, then I'm on a mission to do that. If I annoy you, I know how to walk away and don't make it worst. I married my wife of ten years, two years ago. I have two children, 4 grands and about 30 godchildren. I love them all. I started a challenge on my website www.fistchallenge4kids.com to put books back in children and teen hands. Please visit it and you will see a lot that relates to me. I I hope to be well known one day and sell alot of books. But for now, I have a hard enough time finding a sponsor. But I am a survivor and God will continue to Bless me as he do. I'll wait my turn. Thank you for letting me vent again. And Welcome to the Prose Family :)
All The Leaves Are Brown
I'm not sure why every leaf must die,
but in late Fall,
I sit out on my veranda,
or gaze out my window,
and watch,
as each separates from a limb of life,
and peer into their falling descent,
twirling, twisting,
weaving their own trail,
until finally resting on a patch of dirt;
a not-so final resting place.
It lays there, joining with a pack of thousands,
where once vibrant in its infantile greeness,
and has become a brown shell of itself.
From a bud to full-grown life,
to its death,
knowing, waiting for this secular moment,
almost human.
Then one day,
they are whisked away,
blown into the sands of time,
and when next gazing upon that patch of dirt,
they are no longer there,
That too, is almost human.
What is not human;
the miracle of their return.
The Mamas and the Pappas: https://youtu.be/N-aK6JnyFmk
To The Children I’ll Never Have
Please don’t be offended when I say
I don’t want you.
What I mean by that,
Is that I don’t want you to grow up
In a world where you
Might not be welcomed.
To my daughter,
I don’t want you to grow up in this
World that will peck at you with
Its sharp beak
And tells you that the scars
It left behind on your beautiful being makes you ugly.
I don’t want you to grow up
To work in a job where you’re told
That your uterus makes you less valuable
Even though you could give birth
To nations
And still do twice the work than
Your male coworkers who
Will always make twice as much or more
Than you.
I don’t want you to grow up in a world
Where your body will not be your own
No matter how many people say otherwise.
I don’t want you to grow up in a world that will try to sew a zipper onto your mouth
Because they say your words, your thoughts, your emotions don’t matter as long as you are able to spread your legs.
I don’t want you because you deserve better.
To my son,
I don’t want you to grow up in a world
Where your fists have to speak more than your mouth does.
I don’t want you to grow up in a world
That expects you to carry it on your back like Atlas because despite what society may try to make you think,
You are not a god.
You are human with human limitations.
And that’s okay.
I don’t want you to grow up in a world
Where you’re expected to plant seeds
In the gardens of young girls’ beds
And leave before you see the orchards produce fruit.
I don’t want you to grow up in a world
Where you feel as though you must always be strong
Because it’s okay to be weak
And I don’t want you to grow up in a world with people who try to tell you otherwise.
I don’t want you because you deserve better.
To the children I’ll never have,
Please don’t be offended when I say I don’t want you.
What I mean by that,
Is that you deserve better than a mother who handles her stress with self-destructive behaviors.
You deserve better than a mother who wouldn’t know how to love you because she doesn’t know how to love herself.
You deserve better than a mother who could never give you the moon on a string.
I don’t want you, because I could never deserve you.
Délámhach (Two Handed)
His right hand held a sword,
his left hand held a flower.
His goal to save the princess,
slay the dragon ’round her tower.
He dreamt of her favour,
of her kiss in grateful thanks.
Little did he know,
he made a grave mistake.
She met the prince dressed for battle,
a sword held in her hand.
Unbeknownst to him,
she was the dragon in this land.
She attacked and fought
the prince who came
to take her love
and fly away.
“I am not a prize,
I cannot be won!”
She grasped a sword in her right hand,
her left hand held a shield.
She challenged the prince,
“You had better yield!”
He would not back down,
he refused to run.
So she slew the prince,
and returning to her tower,
left him dying in the sun.
Title Pronounciation: Tee-lay-wah
Get Away
I thought I knew you, I once loved you… now the thought of you makes me want to run. “Get away” I yell in my head. I felt so much towards you… I felt free when I was with you. Free from the stress of life dragging me down to the bottom of the ocean. The ocean was just my life, trying to make others happy when I’m dying alone… doing everything my brother does just to make my parents proud… keeping in my demons so I don’t turn into my sister. Everything... I try to make others happy so I don’t feel useless in the world. I do everything he does so my parents can say “I’m proud of you, you have done so much you should get a break.” and… and keeping my demons inside so I don’t lash out. I’m not perfect, I’m not happy about myself, I wish I wasn’t here, I’m useless… all these demons just making me want to end it all! I hide them because I’m told “She is a mess, but you are the second chance.” Is that supposed to make me happy. I’m the daughter you don’t want to mess up and you want to be like her brothers. If I’m your second chance why didn’t you protect me?
About Prose
I never really wrote anything outside a scholastic environment before, at least anything I would let people see. I am so introverted that the idea of even this small bit of online socializing seemed excessive. Still in a moment of desperation I tried it out and excepting a few technical glitches I have enjoyed my time on this site.