Mrs. Jones can break your bones, but in her heart, your body stands. 

Watch your tongue, you hear, or your jaw will be wired.

Words gone wrong will collect like bile imprisoned in your passage space.

She is a keeper, a jailer, a tailor, a feeder, and a guidance provider,

with gnarled hands shaped from the price paid to make you happen.  

Blocking her trials will not stop her vision; failure is not in her lens.

Splinters of accomplishment spark flames that keep determination from lapsing. 

Intelligence and intellect are hidden behind crude words, shouted out strong,

defiant, created from pressured survival.

Break your bones and put them together she will, stronger, more determined, 

until the next generation and the next and the next, makes emancipation

a real proclamation. 

By Mike Rosen