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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required I cling to my ignorance and stay close to my ways for what I write will never change my heart is unable to set me free to become the child I wish to be my innocents was stolen and I never had a choice but now I am ready, so this is my voice Picture this, early morning wake up to see your father by your side seven years old your fears come to life you see an image of a monster in your sleep two years later and not much wiser your now seeing a monster with a lighter his voice is known but still not placed twelve years old and you finally place that face you father lights up another cigarette and burns it to your skin your eyes start to shut from the drugs he's fed you again thirteen years of age and your acting strange you know the things that only brings shame how do you tell them what he did he was your father you were only a kid you'd be outcasted and he doesn't do it that often anymore only every other night because it makes you sore fourteen and you finally say no longer will he have his way for here comes the judgement day and I have won my life no longer will come undone I finally let the secret slip and to the hell I'm in now I drink another sip of toxic to my life of lies the drugs I take are better each time but they still aren't enough to keep you out of my head you come back each time with more and more thread to stitch the web you weave so well but I still watch as you burn in Hell, you be the judge of my childhood strife would you be honest and say you'd keep your life I am sixteen now and can't stand the crowds I watch my back and write poems like these my dad was a killer of dreams and a lustful theif
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