I am staring at him. He sits with an egotistical smirk, leaning back in his chair, puffing on his cigar, he asks in a stony sarcastic voice “Tell me something? Am I not your purpose? Is this life not your purpose?” Instantly my mind started rattling off all kinds of answers, but my mouth could not; would... Continue Reading →
Read my full story by clicking the link below (3 min read). Hot Summer Days of Georgia Became a Curse to Me -TanyaG © 2017 All words & images by Tanya Graham unless otherwise noted.
Just as I was about to settle into my new freedom another thorn stabbed me deeply. I awoke abruptly from my spell.
As I walked each day to clear my head and shed the tears of regret, I begin to devise a way to say "I messed up. I am sorry. I am lost to my next step."
The apartment is gravely positioned down a stretch of road littered with trash on both sides. On any given night it would not be safe to walk alone. Weeds overgrown with a wilderness that mimics the very people that lived there. The apartment buildings exhibit an exhausted appearance of a woman once pretty but now worn and ugly from the men that have run through and in her.
The stairwell that leads to an upstairs apartment is dark, damp, and dingy.
My plan not my purpose led me up the stairs to one of the darkest seasons of my life. At no specific time, the smell of burnt plastic would fill the air. I soon learned this was the smell of crack cocaine.
My plan to be independent led me to sleep on an old mattress laid on the scuffed wooden floor of an apartment void of life. No furniture…
View original post 51 more words
One chair sits across an empty room on a plain discolored wall next to the door. A little television sits propped on the chair serving as entertainment that in a short period of time proved to be a distraction out of poverty. For the next four hours, cartoons would be the choice of education for these men. Men that had single mothers, children and “baby mommas” that awaited the attention of a man with purpose, drive and ambition that was so needed to destroy the generational curses of sin and poverty that was exposed every time I stepped onto the pavement of the apartments that were gravely positioned down a stretch of road littered with trash on both sides.
My plan, not my purpose had me embarrassed and angry at the position I had placed myself in.
The smell of crack cocaine came in between the stints of…
View original post 145 more words
The apartment is gravely positioned down a stretch of road littered with trash on both sides. On any given night it would not be safe to walk alone. Weeds overgrown with a wilderness that mimics the very people that lived there. The apartment buildings exhibit an exhausted appearance of a woman once pretty but now... Continue Reading →