Since Celebrities weren't going on line I didn't want to post this yesterday. But I have friends with HIV and as a volunteer in a non-profit I also see people gettin free HIV/Aids tests. The following is a poem I wrote November 30, 2006 for World Aids Day. It is called:
Way back when it used to be
Before all this stress about war and HIV
If you were born, no matter how bred
You might get a breast on which to be fed
But that ain't happening if your mother is dead.
HIV has ravaged your family,
And there's no more room in the family bosum.
What's this got to do with me?
Is that what you're thinking or
You'd rather ask me,
"Have I been exposed to the strain and the stain?"
Let me take you back to the family bosum again.
Oh no, not that, let me tell you my past,
Do I have the infection?
Do I hunger and fast?
You refer to my weakness,
My minor black moods,
Long periods of bleakness
Just deliver the goods.
If I must take the fifth
Won't swear to a clean slate
I might slip and fall
It may be too late
Don't try to act sleepy, be hungry or tired
Most important don't bleed, you might get fired.
And please don't correct me, that sh-t don't come free.
And there's no room for me
In the Family Bosum.
It's not pasta for two,
Just strain through a sluice,
Don't bleed anywhere,
You can't vacuum up juice
So you take out the sauce
Or it goes down the drain
We fight over dust
and let me explain
I'm tired of fighting against fear of the truth
There's no family bosum, you can't vacuum up juice.