For the Child That Never Had a Chance
Life with a disease
Is Hell enough
Without the drama
and accusation
From family and collegues.
Cerebral Palsy,
Bound to a wheel chair for life,
Is tough,
What's tougher
Is being seven
With secret hatred from your mother's lover.
Your dear, sweet mother
Was working hard
To make life
A little easier.
"Bath time"
You thought
As this man put you in the kitchen sink.
Slowly bending your neck
As his hand grasped
Your delicate body,
A knife
Was risen
With a clean slice,
With that
Your head was gone.
Your tiny body,
Thrown carelssly into a white garbage bag,
With your decaptiated head
On the side of the street
For your mother to see.
Copyright © Leigh Nickolyn | Year Posted 2011
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment