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There are a lot of women who settle for being that “main chick”, “#1”, “the one who gets introduced to the family”, “the one who had his child”, “and the one he comes home to”. While you may be the one he comes home to, you are also the one he can bring a disease to, lie to, sweet talk, and get over on. If you are #1, there is a possibility that there are #2, #3, and #5, etc.

 You do the math

They say opposites lead to an attraction

But likes, repel ending in the difference otherwise known as subtraction

Regardless of the condition, you handle the division

Because you feel he is worth it even if you only have a fraction

Then you realize that the headaches are going far beyond your exponential notation

Creating a product of multiplication

But it’s okay because it gives you this ill sensation

But when you start to apply the addition to the nonsense the probability is that you will end up with temporary satisfaction accompanied by sequential desperation

You are pleased with that, but God wants an explanation to why you feel you have to be someone’s statistical distribution

You do the math; see if you can do it and get a rational approximation

Cause you can’t possibly get any gratification from this equation.

©2005

 

Although this poem was written almost 10 years ago, it has the same validity if not more today. We need to teach our girls to appreciate and respect themselves, set high standards, and not settle. We must lead by positive example so they don’t become a statistic or a #2.

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