Poor Travellers
Came to this country little suitcase in hand
For a better life in this wonderful land
Pockets were sort of empty but he mentally planned
7 days of school-work as he desperately could,
To send money back to care for his family
Found a Haitian princess to live ever happily
Then something happened
I came about gradually
But actually,
I was second in line
My sibling was the first to cry through birth
It was I who naturally did all to hurt
Playing with greens acting a jerk
Misdemeanors causing people’s blood vessels to burst.
Gone are the days where I grew up in church
Went from being colorful to emphasizing the darkness of my worth
My mind used to be free now it has the same shackles of a slave
Dreaming of unfathomable thoughts- the sum of my fears
Half a time ago the world’s producers of pure tears
Alone in this world
I tricked myself into believing that no one really cared.
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
