And You Thought You Had Problems: well this is my life

It was prophesied to me at the young age of seven
That I was a special child
A gift from God
And my blessing had been sent down from heaven
He told me I would one day
Travel from city to city
State to state
Countries near and far
He told me to never stop writing
Because one day my poetry would make me a star

So I present to you
My first book
A story of my life
The story of a young woman; a survivor who has experience heartache, trouble and strife

It tells a story about drugs, disease, sex, death, and abuse
The stories are so raw and real
Young
Old
Black
White
All races can relate to
But the message in this book
Speaks so loud and clear
That the problems you are facing
Not to worry
And not to fear
Because you are not alone
In this battle of aids, drugs, sex, death, and abuse
Remember, “ If he beats you, he cant possibly have any love for you”
So why stay because you love him, and continue to fight?

Here is my story
“And you thought you had problems”
Well this is my life.

Known as Mona, the author was born Monica Daye on October 26, 1980 in Durham, North Carolina. Her parents William and Dorothy Daye, and her grandmother Hallie Downey brought her up in a Christian environment. She attended Hillside High School where she graduated in June 1998.

Her poetry writing talents bloomed after the death of her grandmother Alberta Daye, when she was just eleven years old. The first poem that she wrote was entitled, “Alberta”,  named after her grandmother.

Poetry writing was just a childhood hobby for Monica until she crossed the wrong paths and got with the wrong crowd. At the age of fourteen she was sent to a detention facility in Swannanoa, North Carolina where she spent about two and a half years.

During the author’s incarceration, which she speaks about in this book, she noticed her talent growing while being locked up as she began to express feelings of hurt and pain. The pressure from other inmates and the negativity that surrounded her increased. Monica searched for deliverance, and healing, which she found through daily letters and daily talks with God.  She sought encouragement, determination and inspiration from within her soul through her own writings.

Monica continues to write about God, inspiration, broken hearts, love, loneliness, abuse and actual real life stories that mirror some of her life experiences.

Now at 22 years old Monica has written over 500 poems.   And You Thought You Had Problems  is her first book.  She continues to blossom with her talent from God. 

3 Years

Three years have come and gone and I’ve put up with your mess
When its hard to let go when I love you so
Yet I cant deal with this relationship anymore

Always talking negative
Telling me I’m nothing but a hoe
And you say you love me, but I have to question that and ask how

How can you love me when you don’t even call
How can you love me when you want to see me fall
How can you love me when you say I have no sense, I’m stupid and ignorant

Yea, but you say you love me and I just think and sit back and laugh
Cuz it’s funny to me that you love me but only when you getting some ass

Now you had it good my friend but all your luxury must come to an end
I come home from working eight hours a day
I cook
I clean
Take care of the kids
Make sure everything is in place
So you want have nothing to say

Yet you still cuss
You still fuss, and always saying things to put me down
You want to see me sad with my face covered with a frown
You want to see that I can’t make it alone
You want to see me move back home
You want to see that I can’t pay my bills
You want to see my goals not fulfilled

Let me tell you a secret my friend
It won’t happen
I won’t give in to your mess
For three years you caused me nothing but stress

I’m tired of you treating me like a piece of trash
I’m tired of you making me feel like I’m no good
Just a nice piece of ass
I’m finish
I’m through
I don’t need you in my life.
I don’t need your abuse
I don’t need your strife

I can do bad by myself
I don’t need you to tell me I’m crazy and that I’m the one who needs some help
Did you ever take a look in the mirror
Did you ever take a look at yourself

Three years I say
I took you sizing me up
Making me feel like I wasn’t good enough for you
Making me feel like it was always something about me you wanted to change
For my face was never right
My hair never in place
My body fat and out of shape
Telling me I needed to lose weight

Three years have come and gone

When I’ve put up with your mess
When its hard to let go when I LOVED you so
But I will not put up with your foolishness anymore.

Girlfriend told me…

 I needed to take my book of poetry to the nearest institution
 And the more I sat and thought
I came up with this conclusion

Envy is a killer
And you must be jealous of me
Because of the true words of wisdom and knowledge
That this Beautiful Black Woman speaks
I get the same response from all my readers…. “Damnnnnnnnn that poem is deep”

So you say I’m a poor single mother

I admit I had my daughter at a very young age
Yes, in my last year of high school
But it didn’t stop me from walking across that stage
Because lady I ain’t no fool
Oh so now I’m BIG MONEY GRIP
Well let me give you a little tip
I don’t need a college to teach me how to write
Iambic pentameter, Alliteration, and syntax of theme
Nah, I’m not Big Money Grip
Because materialistic things mean nothing to me
And you say you were busting your butt to earn a degree in arts and illustration
Well if that’s true, you must’ve not put in a lot of class participation
And you call yourself
A professional in graphic design
Girlfriend please, you wasted your money, and your time
Because you can’t even draw Jesus hanging on the cross
You can’t even draw the praying holy hands
Hell, you can’t even draw freaking superman
Without him looking like he’s on crack
Take my word of advice and go back to school
Cuz it’s a lot of techniques in art and illustration that you seriously lack

Since you don’t want to return my work to me
And you threatening to sell it on the streets
That’s cool, maybe it will help you and your husband
Put food on your table or shoes on your feet
Hey lady, next time think
Before you try to diss me
And you have the nerve to say I can’t write