“Excuse me girl”, he said to me
“You’re looking fine, I like what I see”
I thought, hmm not my cup of tea
But I’ve had some fine brothers
Dog out on me.
Maybe the love
Of an ugly bruv
Is what I need.
Soon we realise this ain’t meant to be
He steps, I’m ex, who’s next!
So I stop and look around
I realise generation ex is in every crowd:
Has stopped communicating
We’ve lost the secret recipe
Our children grow up with mummy
On weekends and holidays
They may see daddy
She works round the clock
Thinking every man is a –
He thinks all women are the same
We all play the blame game
I won’t get vex,
Just re-write the text.
Generation ex have more options
But make bad choices
More opportunities and get out clauses
Better universities and research facilities
Slicker cars, bigger houses
Wide screen TV, MP3’s
And more single 30 something’s
Than in the 1950’s
Less teenage pregnancies
But older baby-mummy’s
More “Independent Women”
Looking for their “Black Brother”
While affirming “I’m a Survivor”.
There are still some fine brothers out there
And plenty fine sisters who care
But my selection for the next generation
Won’t be based on looks or complexion
Not on height, depth or flight reservations
But on character, openness, communication
Love, commitment, respect and devotion
I want to put a stop to the ex generation.
Deborah © 1/08/04