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Poem

I raised my deep voice like the maddest villain,
to make you aware of every wrong decision
leading you down a wretched path...
offering not more than heart-break!



I couldn't wait until mistakes made you bitter and sad,
and with no regret to feel, and no valued self-esteem:
you would have grown into a selfish and truant brat;
should I apologize, and offer remorse for my mischief?  



The obedient child doesn't need constant reminders,
no temptations and pressures can make him or her ever disobey,
see how many mistreat their parents and are unwillingly put away?  
Only discipline and respect can keep them at home and share their joy!   



Out-there in dark and filthy alleys, they smoke pot and crack;
and the unpleasant odor turns into a stench that stays their clothes and breath!
They consume alcohol and ridicule the behavior of their folks with their cruel jokes;
if they led a clean life, their parents wouldn't mourn them in morbid morgues! 



And jail is their next destination, for those not yet rummaged by  death,
there they will have ample time to reflect on their angry and unforgivable words
shouted without pity, without regard...to hurt and shamelessly demoralize;
and their isolation may change them and make them desire what they can't get back! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci

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