She’s insecure, she takes things too far

Her voice is always on top she thinks she talks in hushes

She suffocates the whole room with her issues,

She complicates me.

By night she ridicules soft people, laughs at those who obey and thrive to be of honor,

And I don’t blame her, she had no idea, she knew only Rough Love.
In the morning, there is no peace to who she wakes up to,

Insults and noise for every living thing to know she’s up.

But I don’t blame her. The fake smile and cool performed personality, what a woman!

Two faced and tattooed in a godly image but she doesn’t discern that

The sun has told the moon about her. And the moon knows about all her 4 am secrets

Believe me. I don’t blame her, it’s all because of the rough love.
She acts coach on good life, luxury and peace, riches and love and all the counsels

I swear she won an Oscar the day she threatened her man to leave 

She don’t know kids are watching sometimes, she forgets she raising women of tomorrow

Even though none of them has guts to hiss or wail. 

She is a marriage counselor, I don’t understand this because I am part of it.

I bleed this truth from my hands because maybe the fingertips of patience have pressed so hard against my lips, they choked my voice out of me
My prayer goes to you tough woman of rough love, may you understand we see it

We feel it and it’s bitter and cold by the way.

You push us further away from you every time we think of how doubly you think and act

We are not safe and we could have been if this love was a woman’s magic touch

You could be fragile, you were born as pure as a dove

You got torn up by the hunger of vultures

You flew too far for all the wrong reasons and took regrettable paths

You came back with a change of feathers

Plucked out your own and forgot you are on monitor, you’re looked up to.

  May you find rough love another nest to avoid? 

Being missed is one thing but being lost is another.

I still don’t blame you, you think your intensity shouldn’t be tamed but 

You need to apologize for renting some of us with unreal and temporary sweet love

Or so be it, rough love.

Call it rough African tough woman.

I just no longer find it relevant

I know Sweet women who listen

Grown women who blossom their kittens

Shade love and care yet so genuinely

They talk sense and portray it naturally

They are tough but respect they are feminine

Why you gon feed me with hate but there is so much innocence in a young girl longing to be loved.

How do I know how to love and not shout?

Argue without yelling?

Prove a point in a private manner?
Rough love? What does class even mean to you?

What about virtue?

You have no idea what legacy is.

Besides the acting awards, what else?

I long to see daughters of the nation learn how to ask your sons for forgiveness without changing their tones and suddenly be nice

And bring a material worth nothing more than the same mistakes we are bound to make over and over again,

Rough love, stop pulling my legs, you darken our icons!