Nahamah Jackson-Brown is a sophomore at American University’s School of Communication. She enjoys reading, singing, and writing poetry and short stories. She hosts a monthly open Mic at AU for the Black Student Alliance.

By NAHAMAH JACKSON-BROWN
Observer Contributor
NOV. 1, 2007

I want to be different
I want what I see
But that’s not for me
Sometimes Im not willing to work
I am willing to hurt
For temporary pleasure
My heart never measures before it leaps
To see how far and close pain is in reference to me
I am the willow by the brook
Such a sad place to look

Photo by Observer Staff

I am a summers day by the bay
I am happy wind the wind sways
I want love but I cant find it
I feel I am ready but have no one to share my emotions with
I am in need of someone to understand my silly notions
Who understands why I yearn for attention
Who can see that I don’t really want to be alone
But it just hurts so much to admit that I am alone and that I am in need
I am at a point where I am questioning my foundation
What believed to be so
Who am I
What makes me me
Why do I not stand up for the things that I want
Do I really want them
Am I really ready to open up
Every body has there poem about how they bleed poetry so heres mine
During my mothers sonogram
My heart beat was coming back in stanzas
I was sigin letters on the screen
I was crying ballads at birth
I was daydreaming about the first day of school when the teacher would tech me my letters
I already had mine but for some reason America lead me to believe that theres was better
People often learn to right so they could get chedder
No offense ya’ll but my reason was better
I learned to write so I could be me
If life is predestined
Then I’m living my destiny
Everytime
I recite my prose
This is not the life I chose
It chose me
The letters simply would not let me be
They followed my every step
If you where to have checked my embro Im sure you would have found that the letters inside me developed before I did
If you where to cut me rite now
I’d bleed in black and blue
I even got letters on the back of my shoe
Not coincidence huh so do you
Well that’s not the point
Letters is what holds up my joints

sleep like its your last/ love like its your first/ Begin like its the end/ sing like the song could end at any minute/ write like its the last pen and pad you’ll ever see/ hug like you’ll never meet again/ act like this is the last scene of the play/Dance like you dont want the song to end

Music is ma lyfe/ without it the world would really end for me so just leave me alone if you see notes dancing in my eyes/ the melody that I provide will enter your soul make you lose control and you’ll begin to sway wit me / but thats only if you listen

I’m a joke
If it wasn’t so
Then I wouldn’t agree
Then I wouldn’t be
In all these shambles
Living in brambles
I would chose better
I would say what it was that I meant when and to whom it counted the most
So heres a toast
To my scared little mind
Who never does what it takes
And in the right amount of time
Sad little soul
You always lose control
You don’t own your own freedom
You don’t own your own mind
Instead you turn it over to those who deserve it the least
Who don’t have you in the forefront
Or in mind even the least little bit
Yeah you managed to find those people who couldn’t care less
About you or anything you do
Don’t you always find those souls
Who only care about themselves and over extend their welcome in your life
I drift about with out a feeling inside
I’m not awake
I wish I could feel
Feel something
But I can’t
I just wont wake up
I’m going through the motions
Faking happiness and joy an sadness and all other things
Where in the world is my soul
Is this a fake world why cant I feel
Why don’t I seem to care
It is so hard to come to terms with things

View more of Jackson-Brown’s work:

• Ode to My Ladies: You’re Worth More
• Something Different for a Confused Soul
• Common Sense Ain’t Worth a Common Cent