I am
from scattered I love you's and sometimes hugs
To
frequent cursing and steady neglect
I am
from a scruffy man who smells like whiskey and drugs
Where
“twit’ and “brat” are his least offenses,
leaving
boo-boo's and ouch's on a too-young heart.
I am
from the mother’s adage:
Always
buy quality; never settle for less; you don’t need a man;
I’ll
give you a reason to cry
I am
from no ma’am, yes ma’am,
I’ll
never do that, I’ll always do this,
Yes
ma’am, yes ma’am, yes ma’am
I am
from bullies and teasing and make-good threats
To
empty swings, lonely lunches, and night-time sobs.
To
the inheritance of silent screams from another splintered mind.
I am
from sharpened razors, the uncle's whiskey, and swallow-me pills,
From
trying desperately to forget
To
no longer being able to remember
I am
from self-deprecating thoughts and hope run dry
To
hearing voices tunneling through the echoes of my mind.
To
a steady stream of you'll never be close to good enough
I am from failures and mistakes and what was I thinking
To
I'll try again just in case
To
listening to the one who is slowly teaching me
I
am so much more than where I am from.
1 comment:
Oh that is SUCH a good poem!!! First time on your blog, already blown away. I'll keep reading, just wanted to let you know how much your poem really touched me -- thanks!!
Come by some time and maybe I can return a little something to you...
-- SynthGirl
www.SynthiaMasters.com
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