December 31, 1989.
My mother saw this child
and everyone went wild.
Another baby girl added to
make the trio,
another to take for,
another joining in the show.
As I grew up,
I developed many talents.
I improved in
art,
writing,
and even mathematics.
I grew interest
in poetry,
because it helps me express.
It's what make me different,
from all of the rest.
If I'm so talented,
how did I end up like this?
Left with no friends,
not sharing any bliss.
Keeping to myself
with no one to listen.
I choose paper
to tell my thoughts to,
Guess my appearance then glisten?
...No but,
begin tighten my fists then.
Because no one
is really paying attention
to this one.
I keep a journal
about my everyday goings.
If you get your hands on it,
you would know then.
What I'm really dealing with,
wow,
how many words are snowed in.
Jasmine Shaniece is her name.
Writing poetry is her game.
Being herself will stay the same.
Spittin fire for what she claims.
Her burning flames will not change.
Aiming directions in the right range.
Her problems? She won't complain.
But the tears she's rained,
will stay plain, remained.
