Jay Moore Poet Prose Poetry

Me

I can remember back as a child, My life was always wild, I do not believe it was ever mild, Abuse to me that was done, You shouldn't do that to your son, You shouldn't do that to anyone, My memories not many fun, I made it through yea I won, Break the cycle that was the plan, But I grew up a crazy man, Trying to maintain as best I can, Giving up no I am not a fan, But away from my kids I ran, Hopefully someday they'll see, I didn't want them to be like me, For their forgiveness I do plea, A child like a piece of clay, Must be molded each day, Understanding love along the way, I say to them please be strong, Hopefully it wont be long, My thinking may be wrong, I hope not!

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Caren Krutsinger October 27, 2018 at 8:01 AM Your thinking is so sound, and profoundly self-less that it resounds off the page in its goodness. Jay Moore October 28, 2018 at 5:08 PM Thanks Caren

Quoth Theraven October 25, 2018 at 12:02 AM I can't help but wonder at the depth of pain that made you write this way. So glad you survived to tell the tale, but sorry if you lived it. -Richard Jay Moore July 18, 2025 at 8:25 AM Me too brotherman.