Psychological Compromise
I went to the mailbox
Much to my dismay
I would've rather had smallpox
Than what I found today
I may sound dramatic
And I guess that is true
But what I found so traumatic
You sounded so blue
Did it cross your mind
As I curled in your womb
That the people I'd find
Couldn't deal with your bloom
Did you find some compassion
When you ran with the wind
Did you dress in high fashion
Or the flower child trend
I hate that my screaming
Got under your skin
One nurse was redeeming
So the doctor dropped in
Now I will tell you
The source of our pain
Was a clavicle fracture
With a nerve induced strain
This poem is of childhood
And all it entails
I won't create falsehood
For truth always sales
Don't put your guilt and pity on me
Or whatever you felt in the latter
You'll never recall the flower I'll be
Came from mental abuse, hate and batter
Copyright © Angela Crabtree | Year Posted 2008
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