The Stolen Generations
The tripping lights,the spinning sound,
At long last,the switch was found.
Complicated situations, feeling the vibrations,
Of the numbing sensation of the mind in control
Of this bodyless soul.
Being prodded and poked while being provoked,
My walls came tumbling down,
And I couldn't even make a sound.
This price i'm paying it doesn't seem right.
Is my weight worth gold for whats really being sold?
It's too late she cries, tossing and turning,
Hating her own demise.
Would she have been more wise
If she could have seen,
The hurt in these blue eyes,
The chances that could have been.
I never had a chance to tell my side of the story.
The moments that could have been,
Our crowning moment of glory.
My dreams are shattered, I feel battered and bruised.
I once felt welcomed, now I feel used.
With one last gasp of air, my soul slipped away,
My mummy had her abortion, on my 1st birthday.
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.
