When I was called little brother,
It meant I have an elder sibling.
One from whom I could learn,
Between Light and Dark.
What about the Grey?
Only a few would about the grey;
Would even begin to aspire,
Is grey the divider?
What is a divider?
In essence a carrier,
Of both dark and Light;
Having both thane sight!
The grey is never contrite,
It does and will do on sight!!!
Come with your purported might!
Unseen seen chaos,
These are my instruments,
Will be eaten as sacrements.
For continual human growth within,
Mistakes rectified by the elder or role model;
Taught the current crop must be,
Lessons are as seeds;;;
Planted into our mother,
Blending with Earth, Water and Sun,
The seed transmutes and soon the seed has had its fun,
A plant is now the end product.
We humans are also ever transforming,
Perhaps not as apparent as natural beauty forming,
But what is natural beauty?
What is beauty?
Random randominity is beauty natural,
Random beauty is natural randominity,
Natural randominity is random beauty,
Beautiful randominity randoms naturally,
Not an over-spill,
Understanding and comprehension,
The trick however is to pass on that understanding and comprehension.
But how do you do that?
When most of the generation is tuned to the Playstation!
Violent games evocating the continuation
Of our disgusting violent nation.
Perhaps attempt to not scold or tell;
Allow thane actions to speak wonders,
As an undiscovered well.
Keep the resonance of thane bell,
Perhaps another revolutionary,
Your prodige has to be selectant,
Of his student, his confectionary.
Without this passing down of knowledge,
We all might as well eat the most poisonous berry.
I'm begging you, please don't hit me again.
I'm not able to defend myself, I'm only ten.
Please don't hit me again, it hurts both physically and emotionally.
I don't deserve to be hit and if you were in my shoes, you'd agree.
My emotional scars can never be removed because of what you've done.
You've been a terrible father but I haven't been a terrible son.
Please don't hit me again, your blows bruise my body and make me bleed.
Being taken out of this house and put in a foster home is exactly what I need.
(Even though this is a fictional poem, many children are victims of child abuse. If you see a child being abused, please do what you can to stop it.)
Yes I am white, and yes I can write
From the DM and V so you think
I can not spill my guts or MC
I am dumb if I choose to believe
That I got any skill to convey
So much pain I have felt in my chest
From my dad smacking me in the head
Cause an F on a test and I guess
That's enough to put hands in the cuffs
And arrest the big pest that's oppressed
And has left me a mess and completely distressed!
I will no longer be so depressed
Or this pressed to suppress all this hate I possess
So no rest till I break these two chains
That have plagued all my veins, its insane,
When we don't have an answer!
Bruce Banners, the standard,
We lose all our manners
And start with the slander
Then harp on the "pampered"
With heart crushing banter
So dark is my candor
Were used to being used
and tossed in the hamper
I'll wash my lacoste but it only gets damper
And that's when I got get up, its enough
Cant let Russ, just adjust, my outcome
Or who I become!
The little child was born into a home of violence and abuse.
Sadness was the closest thing to love and that was no excuse.
A little child screaming as his mother gets slapped and tossed all around,
While his worthless father struts thinking he is something he is quite profound.
The little children with ragged clothes and snotty noses just stood there in tears,
What an impression this father has made for them through the years.
We live in a monkey see monkey do get messed up society,
Most of the children grew up watching their parents fighting never knowing
Alcohol or drugs, seemed to dominate most of the poor.
The thing they didn’t realize this was only a temporary escape door.
The pain that was eased only led to more grief.
Till violence took over in the name of relief.
The daddy was loaded up paying the bills, food, utilities and rent,
While momma stayed home pregnant and got fussed at for the money she
They had sunk so low they were ashamed to attend any church,
Afraid that the pastor might point them out as he stood on his perch.
What is the answer if any to this little tale of mine,
How can we make it stop, can we ever draw a line.
I do know that hate begets hate so could love be the key?
Has anyone ever tried it long enough to truly find the answer of this I would
love to see.
All of my life I have heard do unto others as you would have them do unto you,
Such a simple answer could this be all we need to do?
Think About It!!!