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H O
W A R D U N I
V E R S I T Y
Faces
& Voices IV
AN ANTHOLOGY OF VERSE AND
PROSE
The
Evolution of a Dogg
Jakela Parker
So you think that all men are doggs?
But have you ever taken the time to think about why so many of them end up the way?
Did it ever dawn on you that maybe they didn’t start out that way, but were driven to that unfortunate path?
Even though it seems that their ways are innate, let me assure you that most doggs evolved from compassionate creature.
Yeah, you know the kind I’m talking about.
We have all kinds of titles for him: my man, Mr. Right, the perfect
man, the One.
That man you’re calling a dogg now, if I recall correctly, he used to be the one you drooled over during the day and dreamed
about at night.
He was that “one good man” that every woman swore she wanted.
I’m sure you know whom I’m talking about.
That man who sent his woman flowers every Friday, spent his quality time with her and showered her with his love and affection.
Do you remember yet?
His heart beat out her name, and his words whispered his undying love for her with every breath he took. She was his queen, his star, his moon and his sun. She was his universe; his world revolved around her.
Still can’t picture him?
He quenched her every thirst, fed her hunger and fulfilled all of her desired and satisfied her every need.
He was a do right man that did right every single time.
Ah, now you remember. But you neglected to recall his woman.
Now while he was doing right, she was determined to do wrong.
All wrong, and nothing but the wrong.
Encouraged by her entourage of friends,
She went out every night and stayed out all night.
She did whatever with whomever whenever she felt like it.
And she justified her actions by saying, “Until he puts a ring on my finger...”
She was that woman that you would’ve traded places with in heartbeat, because she just didn’t know how good she has it.
She used him in every possible way she could imagine,
missed no opportunity to publicly disrespect him,
and jumped at the chance to belittle him.
And then she pranced over to her girls
where they spit out all that mis-information
about “checking a man” and “keeping him in his place.”
(Of course they don’t have a good man. For that matter they don’t have a man at all.)
You just shake you head while muttering under you breath
“The place for a good man is in the heart,”
and entertain yourself with thoughts of what it must be like to be his woman
and call her crazy for not honoring the title.
And all the while, this compassionate creature is evolving.
For each rumor that he hears,
each disrespectful smirk she throws at him,
every other man’s scent he smells on her,
he moves closer to that hated dogg.
He slowly but surely becomes that man that doesn’t care about anyone or anything but himself, especially a woman.
He’s becoming a self-serving, trifling, no good man.
And after his woman has stripped him of his pride and dignity,
his transformation into the canine world is complete.
He has become that dogg that all woman claim they hate.
Yes, some women are quick to say that all men are doggs,
and even quicker to throw them aside.
But we never stop to think about how he was driven to his new ways.
Not to say that all doggs were changed by a woman.
But the next time you say “Girl you know all men are doggs,” or something of that sort, maybe you should stop and think about how many you’ve bred and then thrown out to the pound.
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