Lonesome Past
Growing up with my grandparents wasn’t so great,
Having to hold onto so much weight.
While my mother was “at school”,
And my father acting like a fool,
I only hoped someone could open the gates.
At some point my mother came back,
But there was something that I lack.
When I tried to let out my voice,
She saw it only as noise,
And in return she gave me a smack.
She forced me to move out of the house,
I was running around like a mouse.
Burning plant was used to let herself loose,
Alcohol was her form of abuse,
The pillows were quickly douse.
My father quickly came and picked me up,
However, I was still down in the dumps.
After the therapies and baker-act,
I was still abstract.
Taking anti-depressants with water in a cup.
That’s when I began to write letters.
And slowly but surely I got much better,
It helped me let out stress,
Just as much as playing chess,
Happiness engulfed me like a sweater.
Now I have exceeded everyone’s expectations,
As they stop and stare at my creations.
They said I wouldn’t make it anywhere,
But now they’re the ones who glare.
A celebration across the nation.
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