My Lost Childhood

I can admit that my life is not perfect,
I do not always have the respect.
From mom and her beer,
And dad in a different hemisphere.

I always get lots of pity,
From people who are witty.
They think they understand,
But they only get second-hand.


In my life I am lost, 
Like I am stuck in a holocaust.
And every ones against me,
And won’t leave me be. 

When ever I open up,
I am told to shut up.
I can’t even tell how I feel,
Because there is to much to reveal.

I wonder why I was put here,
I’m far from a souvenir.
Even when I try to look,
Its always in the wrong book.

So if you have the nerve to tell me you know how I feel,
And say that my pain is no big deal.
I will never tell you yakkity-yak,
Mainly because I am a maniac.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2010

Poem

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Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace