| » Poem: My Life... | My Life...
written by Firequeen09:41 AM 6/8/05Poem Style: noneIve never looked upon myself as anything,
maybe cause I know am nothing.
Just another confused, another abused,
little lost kid.
All this anger I have carried inside,
eyes open wide, around me walls who could stop the tide.
Like my bones they hold me up and going.
Like dikes they keep insainty from flowing,
into my head.
And let me dead.
When I look in the mirror I see, something I don't want to be. It is me..
Not wanted, not free.
Don't take it for granted than am cought in self pitty,
to tell the truth am quite vitty.
I don't need to be patronised.
I don't want to be compromised.
I just need to get it out, I just have to SHOUT!!!!
I could tell the story of me, of the kid I once were and the thing I now in the mirror see.
It sure would make me feel better,
so I think I migth,
it would make my burden ligth.
So am warning, don't read on if u don't want to read my letter.
Letter of pain and letter of gain,
written in blood,
blood sheed,
but from one far from dead.
If you think you know me, than think again.
If you think you can show me, than think again.
In the end I am not a friend.
3 years of nothing but cold and confusion,
"daddy" couldn't care less if I were a rat,
he cared better for the cat.
Mom was sick and nearly dying,
he was downstairs watching TV and didn't hear her crying.
Good thing we got out in time.
All he had to say was "You are mine!"
To him we were nothing but property,
cougth in hes own insanity.
Almost a pitty.
He failed commiting suicide.
At least, he is no longer by my mother's side.
You would think it was good now,
that our troubles were past,
but good things, they never last.
I seriusly think mom just has bad luck in men,
and that is something I think will never end.
Nr 2,
at least he was true.
Yeh sure, he was nice when he was sober,
but once the ale was there the good times were over.
Hitting and rage,
smoking and debt.
You would think the smoking wasn't so bad,
but when the child is allergick it's mighty sad.
It got him cancer at last,
1 week after she married the man he was past.
I wouldn't have sheed a tear,
I had no sorrow to bear,
exept seeing mom so devestated,
and in her grief I related.
A single tear down my cheak,
a short moment feeling so weak.
You think am done now think again cause I keep writing.
I still had the bullies and the endless fighting.
Trust I put in no one by my self,
cause seamed to have nothing in commen with anyone else.
Obessive compulsive behaviour, lack of trust and self esteem.
Spose I should have been put in a spychiatrick and never let out.
No one heard me shout.
Finally I realized it for myself
I had to get out of it without the help of someone else.
I still fight my demons.. Ugly dark beasts.
Who upon my sorrow feasts.
Seams am still in there
cougth in darkness and despair.
Fighitng my way out of demon's lair.
Never will the scars of past go away,
though fading at the ligth of day.
Spose ill get out in the end, finding my own way. |
All (c)Copyrights reserved by the Original Author.
Author's footnotes and comments on this Poem:
Oki if u bothered to read all that shit Ill just say thanks. lol
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