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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=576904" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The knives are out for me</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=576904" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">I hauled you out<br>Of the poverty of<br>The gutter<br>I took you away<br>From the bullet riddled<br>Neighborhoods of the ghetto<br>I clothed you and made you<br>Smart and look at you now<br>You're beautiful you look<br>Like the model from the cover<br>Of the magazine and you haven't<br>Disappointed me and you go on<br>And you amaze me and pound for <br>Pound you match the love between us<br>But now the knives are out for me<br>And those who looked down at you<br>From the lofty armchairs are<br>The first to say how <br>Ill matched we are<br>And out of the frustration of<br>Where you come from from a no hoper<br>I became responsible for your education<br>And you're the best my baby you can<br>Intellectualize with the greatest I'm<br>So proud of you<br>But the knives are out for me<br>And I who is not after your money am now<br>Accused of exploiting you and I can only<br>Depend on your love and your loyalty<br>To defend my dignity and my honor</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Ngaka+Motaung">Ngaka Motaung</a></strong></div>