We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost half of how we came to be
We lost we four girls first love
We lost our Best Friend
We lost more than just a Dad that day
Our Mom lost her Soul Mate, Her other half
Our children lost their Papaw
We lost our family’s foundation
We lost the glue that held us together
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost the Strongest man we ever knew
We lost the man we looked up too
We lost we four girls Teacher of many things
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We four girls lost our Hero
We lost some of our Light
We lost part of our Heart
We lost part of our Soul
We lost more than just a Dad that day
We lost some of our Courage
We lost some of our Strength
We lost some of our will to fight back
We lost some of our will to carry on
We four girls lost more than a Dad
We lost more than just a Dad that day
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
sometimes i talk to myself,
my mind is racing,
i dont know what to do...
so hard to explain.
depression isn't a stage
or a faze some kids go through
it shatters you...
i saw it all.
she cried silent in her bed,
blood stains covered her favorite jeans,
her every shirt,
long sleeve ofcourse...
she suffered through it all with few people to call friend
and more to call enemy
even more to say where quite dissappointed....
her first name in school,
not started by a bully
or a mean rival,
but by her sister,
and it echoed through her soul,
repeating in her mind... over and over again,
like the ripples of still water
when a pebble is dropped
flash frozen in time
over and over again...
It was the first name they gave her,
millions where created over the years,
some repeating again, just as the first had..
gothic they called her,
emo, fat, ugly....worse things.
but in her mind, things where worse.
everything was repeating,
over and over again,
finally she believed it.
she asked for help, from everyone
tried to explain to parents she wasnt well,
got called a psycho for asking to see a theripist,
not from a teacher,
not from a class mate,
but from her own father, who wouldn't, couldn't,
believe there could possibly be a thing wrong....
finally, crying, she confessed her bloody secret to a teacher.
rather then giving her time,
she is sent back to class crying her eyes out, as if she wherent going through enough...
she is sent to the principals office a few minutes later, after breaking down in class...
the princlipal says she needs help,
sends her and her dad for a risk evaluation,
her dads crying as she shows him her cuts...
they walk into a hospital room,
it smells of chemicals and hand sanitizer,
the lady at the desk gives her a smile.
then she goes into a room with a lady,
her cheeks are sunken in and shes wearing way too much makeup,
the girl is gaging on her perfume,
and she looks really intimidating....
her dark brown hair looks dead and flat
even though its a bit wavy,
and she wears somewhat of a mocking frown.
asks her all these questions,
is mommy beating her?
is daddy raping her?
is she doing drugs?
is anyone beating her?
did anyone molest her?
oxcarbezapine, trazadone, citalipran, clinazapam, colonipan,
valium, lithium, more.......
and thats what they gave her,
some numbed the pain
some brought it out
tearing through her organs,
she became an addict by the time she was fourteen....
over dose after over dose
some for pleasure
some for pain,
gashes on her legs getting deeper,
this time she didnt tell a soul,
not even those she had come to call friends....
wakeup she screamed in her head over and over again
as she dropped weight like it was nothing....
you cant controll it she argued as things became worse.
at age fourteen she attempted suicide,
she didnt quite succeed.
the medication took away her aappitite....
she liked it
she hated her body
felt out of controll
found a new way to cope
as she shoved tooth brush after toothbrush down her throat
to keep her body from nuitrients...
as she whent weeks and weeks spitting food into napkins and making excuses
I ate at my friends house....
spoken as a whisper
heard like a sentance
echoing in her mind over and over again,
along with that word, all the words,
ugy, anoying, stupid, fake, worthless, nothing...
one bite she would say
rocking back and forth
craving nothing but food
her body racked with hunger pain
one bite and there she was again
over and over and over again
back to a toothbrush
this time she sees blood
she saw her ribs
she saw her bones,
it wasnt good enough,
she almost died, again....
choking on this deep dissappointment in herself,
gaging on everything they where pushing down her throat,
their words, and their insults, their criticism.... their drugs
all shoved down her throat like candy
and just as she was was trained to do she swallowed despite the bad taste
or the hurt
or the fact that at the rate she was going she would be dead soon...
and you know why?
because daddy yelled
and couldnt accept what was happening
not because he wanted to hurt her
but because it hurt him,
and she let him believe,
because she could take the hurt if it meant he didnt have too.
because mommy didnt want to sit in her room all day
practically having us raise ourselves,
she didnt mean to take anger, or frustration or hurt out on her daughter
she suffered everyday in her solitary confinement,
and from a young age she accepted her bedroom was the cage
her mother had created for herself.
because sister didnt want to effect her the way she did
she was just frustrated
fed up with the way things where
scared, she needed someone to take her cruelty
and to help heal her pain...
because people in school
who where so cruel
had to have learned from somewhere
and she wasnt going to play into their games,
and they knew she was an easy target
because she would never attack someone so weak
and she accepted her suffering was a sacrafice
to help all these people....
to help her dad,
every person who was beaten abused or hurt
and felt so weak at home they wanted to feel strong in the one safe place they had.
because depite the fact she had died inside,
and almost passed away on the out,
it was a saccrafice she was willing to make
so that no one else would have to feel that kind of pain,
and they all inflicted it and broke her down'untill there was nothing left but a shell
of somthing that could have been
and never had the chance
because she would take it and wouldnt strike back,
because sometimes "just taking it"
isnt so much about the weakness not to do anything
but about the strangth not to hurt others the way they hurt you...
Copyright © cassie hellberg | Year Posted 2013
The moon so bold seems cold
with a halo of midnight glow
I sit mesmerized as the night grows old.
I bleed still, even after all these years
and I wait again through the night
aching in the depths of my soul
that no other seems to know
the Loneliness that has become my companion.
In the darkness we wait and confide in the other
our deepest fears as memories fade
in and out each season of change
the nostalgia tempers the wars of pain
this tempestuous foe of ours
wails at the gates of midnight
howling the warble of humanities last grace.
How the comfort of minds and hearts
turn from light to deep dark in the face
of eternities long time clock...
I ache with wanting, with need and passion
it is a lie that time heals and wounds scar
each night is fresh like the first
when I faced realities shock.
Who can wait with me?
Who can hold this hound at bay?
Who can cherish what little love left in me
and make the broken whole?
I ache to be loved again as the love that burns
and waits inside of me.
Who can comfort this emptiness and fill the void
that so many leavings have left?
Cherish and love to honor and protect
but who can slay these demons that hold my heart in wrath?
Who will walk the sulfur clouds of hell to save my mind
and deliver my world to the gates of heaven
with life, not death bridging the distance of pain?
I sit and wait at the floor of the moon each night
waiting for that bridge to carry me yonder,
this moon who hangs heavy and ripe with the yearning of my soul
with clouds aglow as if I could sweep them across a canvas
with the brush held in your hand
I rage at her as I wait, but still I wait and weep
as Loneliness and I keep each others company
wishing the clouds of that great moon could truly create
a way to find the lost, a pathway to home, lit by the legacy our love.
Copyright © tara jennings | Year Posted 2013
Why do I have all these bad thoughts in my head,
the worst one of all is wishing I were dead.
Every morning I wake up the thoughts are still there,
the more I sit and think about them,the more I just don't care.
I have been trying hard,for things to be the way they should,
maybe if I didn't care so much for once in my life I could.
My MOM was always number one in my life,but now that she is gone,
it has been hard for me to be able to move on.
Copyright © Colleen Bono | Year Posted 2010
Please please PLEASE
Say you recognize ME -
My face, my name;
Please say you know me today.
Say you know me, so we can converse,
A normal chat, words unrehearsed.
No more who are you’s, or who am I’s,
No more confusion when I stop by
I miss you mom and you’d miss me too,
If just once, you only knew…
Copyright © Black Eyed Susan | Year Posted 2012
You stare at me with vapid eyes,
That once were bright and clear.
You don't recognize me now,
My voice you barely hear.
This empty shell that's lying here,
Isn't the mother that I knew,
And it's tearing me apart inside.
Why did this happen to you?
You're the one who gave me life,
You taught and raised me well.
I couldn't ask for a better Mom,
And seeing you like this is hell!
We used to talk and laugh together,
Going shopping was a treat.
You loved to smile and give out hugs,
To every friend we'd meet.
But now you barely speak a word,
You look but you don't see,
And when I try and hug you,
You shrug away from me.
It's torture watching you fade away,
Knowing there's nothing I can do.
Do you even understand what I'm saying,
When I tell you "I love you" ?
How horrid and cruel this disease is,
Destroying every cell in your brain,
Stealing all of your memories,
And causing so much sorrow and pain.
I keep hoping one morning I'll waken,
And find its all been a bad dream,
But reality steps in and betrays me,
Making me want to scream!
My precious Mother, I miss you.
I miss your tender kiss on my brow.
I miss your sweet words of wisdom.
How I wish you had some for me now.
For PD's Second Chance contest
(this is a work of fiction)
Copyright © Kim Merryman | Year Posted 2012
Dear God, how did You sleep.
I had a dream and it made me weep.
Did You see it, it was so real.
I think it might even help me heal.
Anyway that dream last night
sure was kind of cool.
Except for the times
I acted the fool.
I was a whole lot younger
then I am now.
I was talking with my mom
and I was wondering how?
We sat at the kitchen table
and she had on that grin.
The one that always told me.
I know where you've been.
I could talk to her
about anything I ever did.
Not only when I grew up
But since I was a little kid.
She was the only one
on this whole entire earth.
Who made me feel like I belonged.
Who gave me a sense of worth.
We talked for hours.
We laughed and we cried.
I didn't leave the table
till the day that she died.
It was a roller coaster ride
of every high and low I could feel.
Then Lord You got out the projector
and then You put on the reel.
We watched home movies
and most of it was good.
You would fast forward
those parts that you should.
There was this one scene
where Jesus had a part.
Remember when I asked for Him
to come into my heart?
On a scale of 1 to 10
I would give it a ten.
But there was this one time
I don't remember when??
When I asked for Jesus to come into my heart
He walked right in like He belonged.
But what I didn't know then
was that He walked in with my mom.
Copyright © Allan Granstrom | Year Posted 2009
Without you, the days are so long
& sometimes it's hard to just carry on.
You gave life & love to all things
The joy of giving was what you would bring.
I see your smile inside my head,
It just isn't fair that you have to be dead.
I know you suffered though all the while
You held your head high & even would smile.
As I watched you go through it, I always had hope,
Even when we came to the end of the rope.
Everything that we went through
Helped make us closer & more loving too.
Through ups & downs you always were strong
Even when you knew you didn't have long.
Life can be kind & cruel in the same,
But you will live on forever because of loves eternal flame.
Copyright © Aimee Rodriguez | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
The nurse ordered her to push, push, push
in her best proper voice
and linen balled in red fists knotted
and sweat falls from red face knotted
while Billy, head first, tugged and yanked by nurse's proper hands,
emerges, gently laid upon the blood soaked sand
motionless in the sulfur haze, almost well-behaved
amongst the rifle clatter and bewildered screams -
get down! get down! get down!
while Billy breathes slowly, undisturbed,
his eyes closed with new mom
gently caressing matted, cark curls,
her fingers, no longer knotted, extended,
Billy's tiny hands and infant fingers
grip the plastic ribbing
around the rifle barrel smeared in stickiness that flows out
from below Billy and onto sand, puddling, his lips chapped and parted,
suckling as new mom exhausted weeps
in relief of two arms and two legs and everything okay
as she holds him, hurting for him,
everything that might happen,
everything that will happen,
and she drifts off to slumber,
mother and child peacefully spent
in soft pretty colors
and the soft murmur of the television as the sedan
with government plates at the curb
and a Marine in dress blues (Oh, God) stands plastic in the doorway
and uses his best proper voice (Oh God, not Billy, Oh God)
to regretfully tell her,
and uses surprised hands to catch her when her legs
regretfully cannot hold her
and she sobs on the floor like a mother who outlived her son,
exhausted as the day Billy was born.
Screw this war.
Copyright © Sean Swain | Year Posted 2006
To be called ..
~ Grandma is a Honor ~
I have been blessed with 4 Grandchildren
~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb " He is God's Angel ~
~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~
For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
Time passed another gift to see
we are " Mickes" and Loved
Our Dad held the title in Baseball
~ that's how we roll ~
those children are Grandmas hero's
The Irish they love big and Family is everything
The brothers will protect the beautiful sister
~ as many lads will be calling ~
Every time my Grandson hits a home run
There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand
It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs
~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
either baseball or Art ~ you shall find your gift given
These children have been blessed~
~ a beauty to hard to describe
If you think not ~~ Take a look at the Mom
That girl can stop Traffic
after raising three and still~
"Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "
May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell
Copyright © Shanity Rain | Year Posted 2013
Our Father in heaven gave us a special gift.
Mom was one who kept us from going a drift.
The sound of her voice took away our fears.
Mom was the one who heard our tears.
She had a gift for calming and healing.
Mom alway knew how we were feeling.
When it was hard to hold on to life’s rope.
Mom was the one who taught us how to cope
She would tell us to get on our knees every day.
Mom was the one who taught us how to pray.
Her words are with us for we are apart.
Mom loved us deeply with all her heart.
We reach our arms up to heaven and wish we could touch.
Mom we just want you to know we still love you very much.
Edward J. Ebbs - Written 4/07/2013, for eulogy, Mom's Funeral
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2014
Let the Deicide commence.
You're a voyeur at best!
Your vampiric heart is beating out of your chest!
And you have slayed the ones whom would love you for anything less
Ready to consume the final fragments of innocence,
And for you there is no forgiveness,
On your knees pleading, screaming to a tyrant in the skies;
The father of lies.
I will never be enslaved in your superiority
The people agree: jaded of your false dichotomies.
Know: I will be whomever nature intends to be
Apollo and I will share our dreams,
and you will be forced to see
I know who you are...
Readily the first to present your scars
Chained by some despot or mental czar
An emotional homunculus in your mind, behind bars
Reluctant to escape - even when proven fake
Your demented mind - depths no one will penetrate!
...And you see me suffering
Not caring of any casualties
Just as long you recieve your safeguard of sympathy
So very wary of the masses and their Anarchy; Liberious ways
Solipsist - Is there no one you can see?
Even if she was presented burning?
Solipsist - Is there no one you can believe?
Even if Sophia was screaming?
Solipsist - Know you have killed and abused me
Imprisoned in your own personal reality
Copyright © Wyatt Loethen | Year Posted 2013
I cannot get into heaven
God I have tried!
Suicide is a double edge sword
Especially when you survive!
Walking the streets at night
Dazed and confused
Longing to be loved
When is Mum, coming for me?
"Does she still love me?"
"Does she still care?"
"Does she still think of me?"
"Does she wonder, where I am?"
I want her to come find me
I want her to say she 'loves me’
I want her to comfort me
I want her to take me home
And keep me safe
And not forget hat I exist
Like the way she treats me now
I wish God
Could make my Mum
Making this hellish nightmare
On the street
“Send my Mum please!”
So, all this can end!
Before this last ray of hope
Diminishes for good!
I don’t want to become
The walking dead
Forever forgotten as if
I was never born!
For this is the cruel, harsh reality
Of living life, feeling unloved
Uncared for, abandoned,
Left to fend for my own
A dangerous killer inside me
Eating away, at my soul
Something, no one can see
As I suffer in silence
My insides crippling!
Lost, alone and frightened
Weeping on a dirty
Graffiti park bench
Rolling down my cheeks
Stuffing newspapers under my jumper
To keep myself warm
“What am I going to do?”
“Will I make it through the night?”
“Will I get raped and beaten?”
"Will I be left for dead?”
“Will I survive
To see another day?
“Is my life worth living?”
Please God, I beg of you
Have mercy now
Please show me the way!
Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
(for the countless women, names unknown, who bore the brunt of Apartheid, and who fought the racist system at great cost to themselves and their families, and for my mother, Zubeida Moolla)
Pregnant, your husband on the run,
your daughter, a child, a few years old,
they hauled you in, these brutish men,
into the bowels of Apartheid's racist hell.
They wanted information, you gave them nothing,
these savage men, who skin happened to be lighter,
and white was right in South Africa back then,
but, you did not cower, you stood resolute,
you, my mother, faced them down, their power,
their 'racial superiority', their taunts, their threats.
You, my mother, would not, could not break,
You stood firm, you stood tall.
You, like the countless mothers did not break, did not fall.
You told me many things, of the pains, the struggles,
the scraping for scraps, the desolation of separation
from your beloved Tasneem and your beloved Azad,
my elder sister and brother, whom I could not grow
up with, your beloved children separated by time, by place,
by monstrous Apartheid, by brutish men,
whose skin just happened to be lighter.
You told me many things, as I grew older,
of the years in exile, of the winters that grew ever colder.
You were a fighter, for a just cause,
like countless other South African women,
you sacrificed much, you suffered the pangs,
of memories that cut into your bone, your marrow,
you resisted a system, an ideology, brutal and callous and narrow.
Yes, you lived to see freedom arrive, yet you suffered still,
a family torn apart, and struggling to rebuild a life,
all the while, nursing a void, that nothing could ever fill.
I salute you, mother, as I salute the nameless mothers,
the countless sisters, daughters, women of this land,
who fought, sacrificing it all for taking a moral stand.
I salute you, my mother, and though you have passed,
your body interred in your beloved South African soil,
you shall remain, within me, an ever-present reminder,
of the cost of freedom, the struggles, the hunger, the toil.
I salute you!
(for the brave women of South Africa, of all colours,
who fought against racial discrimination and Apartheid)
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
My mom was a strong woman, and stubborn too,
Yet she had a soft side, between me and you.
That side she would show, when you least expected,
But let me tell you, she was well respected.
Mom was quite unique, and was one of a kind,
She was set in her ways, so keep that in mind.
The youngest of nine, she had gotten her way,
Spoiled by her siblings’, almost every day.
Right out of high school, she had married my dad,
Blessed with three children, plus fifty years they had.
They both were hard workers, in all that they did,
My dad taught himself, from when he was a kid.
My mom was a smoker, for forty-six years,
Some day it would happen, she’d face all her fears.
Lung cancer she had, and inoperable too,
Her time on this earth, would be shortened we knew.
Radiation and Chemo, had done their thing,
Remission set in, tears of joy it did bring.
We would go out at night, to shop and to talk,
I knew she enjoyed, getting out for a walk.
Two years had gone by, after Thanksgiving Day,
Her pain had returned, but was afraid to say.
She’d lie on the couch; it was strength she did lack,
We knew in our hearts, that the cancer came back.
We shared lots of laughter, but many a tear,
I tried to assure her, she’d nothing to fear.
“Please watch over your dad, this one thing I ask.”
“I know it will be, quite a difficult task.”
One morning in March, Hospice called us to say,
You may want to come, for she’s slipping away.
For the night before, mom told me to stay home,
“Be there for your kids, you can call me by phone.”
When we all arrived, for a moment she woke,
Her eyes said it all, not a word had she spoke.
We stayed by her bedside, just holding her hand,
“It’s time to let go mom, we all understand”.
A few days had passed, not ready to let go,
For it had been raining, but letting up slow.
The sun began shining, the clouds disappeared,
Opening the heavens, for mom’s time has neared.
We gathered together, her forehead we kissed,
Whispering so softly, how much she’d be missed.
“Your time has arrived mom, just follow the light”,
She left us so peaceful, she gave up her fight.
It was time to drive home, in the car we got,
Then something had happened, while leaving the lot.
Huge drops of rain falling, it had to be fate.
They were tears of joy; she was at heaven’s gate.
Copyright © Kelly Zakerski | Year Posted 2009
In my cradle,
My tiny body was cradled
In my mothers arms.
My gem among gems,
I remember when I cried
You comforted me with
your soothing words.
Your re-assuring hands
Secured me till Death's
Cold hands snatched you
From me,a sucker I was
That needed you most.
Adieu! Sweet mum till
We cross paths again!
Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu
Copyright © Ifeanyi Bob Ekechukwu | Year Posted 2013
“Anna, put on the shoes your dad gave you.” I obeyed.
He had given them to me for my birthday before he
Was taken away. I haven’t seen him since that day.
But, mom tells us that we’ll see him again someday.
Melancholy had masked my mom’s face all morning.
My brother and sister sat on their bunks with sorrow.
It began to run and grow down their pale pastel cheeks
As mom somberly told them…
“Your sister and I are going away, promise me you’ll
brush your teeth and always pray. Peter, you take care
of your sister, you’re the man of the house now. It’s not
that bad, oh my beautiful babies—don’t be sad. I love you!”
“Let’s go!” as the guard pushed me and my mom. She picked
me up and placed me in her arms then harmoniously
hummed my favorite bedtime song. Then, we walked into a chamber.
She said “Close your eyes” and that’s the last thing I remember.
Submitted for Abe’s “Leather Voices” contest
Copyright © Mike Butler | Year Posted 2010
A Very Inviting Temptation!
I remember of a particular situation.
I was offered a very "inviting" temptation.
The situation I was in... I didn't belong!
And lost any sense of "right and wrong."
At first... I felt no guilt or shame.
And brought embarrassment
to my family's name.
I tried to explain this to my wife and kids.
I heard; "Dad... please... no more fibs!"
The Godly principles were "tossed to the side,"
As the sin inside caused arrogance and pride.
Soon, all in my life that truly mattered...
Was gone! My life was empty and shattered!
I was sorry for all of the problems I caused!
This time... I took a moment to pause.
I cried to God to rescue me from my sin.
I confessed! Would God help me once again?
I read in the Bible of Jesus’ grace and love!
This time the help I needed had to come from above!
I asked him for a fresh and brand new start.
He removed the stain from a broken heart.
He restored to me the joy I once had.
I'm so blessed! Jesus has made me glad!
Jesus is the reason I'm here today!
I LOVE HIM more than words can say!
By Jim Pemberton
Copyright © Jim Pemberton | Year Posted 2013
Strange or not
Odd and fun.
That’s not all
And still are
Strange and odd.
life is life.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move
Lies are life.
Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.
Lies are truth.
Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.
Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.
Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Copyright © Layla Elkoulily | Year Posted 2013
My Daddy’s coming home, he promised Mom and me
He told us not to worry; he was safe as he could be
He’ll wear his vest and helmet and stay out of the crowd
My Daddy’s in the Army and he serves his country proud
It’s just another tour he said like the ones before
My Daddy’s coming home some day but today he is at war
We didn’t hear from Daddy, though he said he’d call each day
My Mommy said don’t worry but let’s kneel down and pray
We thank God for our Daddy and to keep him safe and warm
Like he did the last time and back in Desert Storm
We tell God that we love him and that all we’re praying for
Is Daddy coming someday but today he is at war
We haven’t heard from Daddy; it seems for quite a while
We still kneel down and pray for him but Mommy’s lost her smile
Friends keep coming over and they pray with her too
My Mommy looks so tired and sad; I don’t know what to do
Today my Mom was crying when she hung up the phone
She said that was the Army and their sending Daddy home
I said let’s pray for Daddy and knelt down by her side
She didn’t help me with the words; she just knelt down and cried
I knew something had happened but I was scared to ask
I asked God to take over; he handles all those tasks
Then I got this funny feeling, my Daddy’s not alone
He’s with some fallen soldiers and God’s bringing them back home
My Daddy’s going home today like he promised Mom and me
Home to be with Jesus for all eternity
With Memorial Day coming up, I thought I would share this with all of you. IF you
like this check out my poems - A Little Hill IN Arlington and MIA Hill
Copyright © mike dailey | Year Posted 2011
I do not know?
Growing up was hard for me,
I think i grew up to soon,
I had to take charge in the big brother role,
But also i had to take hold to the father role somehow.
My mom was the only one who was there for her children,
We knew that she loved us,
She was in love with my father but he wasn't faithful,
So she found someone else who showed her true love.
My siblings never truly understood it,
I tried my best to encourage them to behave,
Which they listened but to a certain point,
Finally my mom married her true love and the caos began.
My father tried to step back in the picture,
My siblings began to side with my father not knowing the seriousness,
I decided to talk to them one-on-one but neither of them listened,
They wanted for my mom and father to be together.
One day my mother sat them down,
Telling them the hurt and pain she experienced with my father,
She explain to them the whole nine yards,
They understood then and began looking at my father differently.
Getting to the stage of middle school,
We began to see less of our father,
It was his choice...not ours,
He wouldn't call for our birthdays or holidays,
So we leaned mostly on our step-father,
They wouldn't accept him as father,
He would do all he could for us,
But instead the only one(s) who really let him be a father figure was me and the
My step-father loves my mom and has been there for her going on Fifteen years.
He is a firm talk like he's a policeman or something,
But he is a nice person.
My mom loves him and so do we.
So this is a message for all of the children out there who has a no good father....if
your mom has a man or husband, please treat him right because he is there to
protect your mom and you all. Thanks for listening!!
Copyright © Vernard Mays | Year Posted 2011
A serpent underneath blue sky,
in shade of man, in twinkle of an eye,
above brick wall, in the structure, at the floor,
venom of white dove; contaminated food, undrinkable water,
misguided youth, pregnant daughter, unfaithful father and hateful son,
mothers do pray while we walk through Babylon;
on teli and in the press, on top shells,
price none the less, in bedroom and at your door..
dawn of a new day seemed to be dark,
Copyright © Miche Ulman | Year Posted 2013
There is no other like my dear mother.
She was there when I laughed or cried. And she was there when my
infant son had died.
She was there if I was happy or sad. And still loved me whether I
was good or bad.
Now that she's gone, she has left her middle name for me to carry
To me, it's just a simple reminder, that there is no other like my dear
Copyright © Anissa Turner | Year Posted 2015
We buried her in a hole in the ground.
It was her final, resting place—poor Mom!
Shaken, I wept but my siblings were calm.
Only I appeared distraught and unsound,
overwhelmed at the sudden loss I found
too great to bear. It was like a huge bomb
had exploded in our lives—like napalm!
There I sat. My grieving tears were profound.
It had been an upsetting funeral.
We buried her on a cold, wintry morn—
all there knew their places on arrival.
Among them I wept, so tearful and torn
during the service and the burial.
In the end, I felt so dead and stillborn.
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2014
The wind blew events all over the place.
Intense emotions and it gave chase.
Lightning lighting to show us the sky.
People try to sleep and not cry.
Wisping by the wind keeps us awake.
The time trying to sleep the storms take.
Chills in everyone gives all shiver.
The clouds surrounded by moonlight is silver.
Heavenly prayers that the rain will stop.
The flood stopped a car the person in it was a cop.
People have seen such devastation.
The road that people made was week in creation.
Rivers near by was over flowing.
Trees that were there was not showing.
By the hour it claimed many.
My father woke up and did not see any.
Floating by was a boat.
Keeping people above water and a float.
My father kept a canoe.
That some day we would use it, that he knew.
Time to paddle up and down the street.
The rain water kept getting on our seat.
It was so dark after the moon was behind the cloud.
Still the noise of thunder still covered the ears loud.
The smell of moist water never seem to go away.
My brothers seem to still sleep anyway.
My head was bobbing up and down.
I was so tired that I could not hear a sound.
The wind blew back and fourth.
It seems that my mom and dad paddle their worth.
Till all the people we saw with grace.
Help us out with embrace.
The time was so late at night.
Everyone was so sleepy and losing sight.
The fight with the weather was so hectic.
The feelings of energy was electric.
Losing to such natural disaster is hard to understand.
When people working hard to block the river with bags of sand.
With hard workers like my mom and dad.
They make things happen that is not bad.
Rough with weather they experience more than ever.
Leaders they are they are very clever.
From the night light of street lights to the morning glow.
The wind did not stop so.
Bringing in more clouds that ill.
The people who were still tired still had will.
The rush of water and waves blasting push the wall side.
Pushing and the force brought water inside.
The battle of our hour was getting long.
Backup people came to aid us was strong.
Rested they were to keep everyone with hope.
The people stopped the water with the strength of rope.
Heavy rain and loss of homes bring people together.
It is kind of sad that this was the only time to gather.
Chaos comes happiness how true.
This is why we are human that gives us a clue.
It is our nature to keep rain falling.
To know when it is time for our calling.
The winds bring such pain and sorrow.
That is why rain sometimes fallow.
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
If you only knew what it was to live off
life 75% feeling and 25% so called
canned reality you may realize an eventual
moment stance the chained bewildered comeby
circumstance--it takes to eek through a
given gross day of thought square wheeled peril of
"going fo it" watching everything in emo colors through tear
rhetoric eyes--sub glands working overtime
without pay for the moments
neverendings--unrelenting to the bread crumb
trails forgotten for the wayward bird to the dead
far reathered animal on the roadside--was the first
not the goodyear tread which kissed its life oblivion.
So much the batter better. Clean living does us all in
eventually. look at me, an example of feeling
idealology times 2in reverse Pi graced but yet
ghosted in punnett square annodicotomy in
unequivicol blatant ignorance, by and by like the dust
layered on an empty shelf, entombed yet consistent
deep and still--blank, devoid, and offbeatt---out of kilter.
So be it it. The ferver the merrier. I can give till the gives gone and not recollect in tune. Give green carpet grasp with the drawer open and a
few strewn yellow pages with hopeful intent minus
a few zeros for glad integrity. Someday, 3/4 time,
Pass/Fail or just audit it. Poor icome tax fool.
Substantial penality for Early withdrawal---sexual
tax evasion. Try to fix-get the kix in the social facehole.
We've reached a blank toe verdict and you're it!
Try and recompass if you dare mediazed--branded
intermittent idiocracy implosion. Get a flute. Ohhhh do you work at the
lab-as a labite? CSo much for appearance sake. Entrail
rehab should be an art form--in renal time
Bury me please in some stupid clean earth
to initiate my bare broken flesh--carry me back
to old Ahia whenced I was loined. Thanks
Dad--I know I am a lot like you---How?
I just feel it-------------------or was I adopted?? Really???
Copyright © Dave Collins | Year Posted 2013
Mom, there is something I have to
tell you about dad, he comes in to my
room at night, we play this game'
it's just between 'us' he said then he
leaves and goes to bed.
I know you won't believe me but
it's true, please don't be mad at me,'
the girl said.
'You are a 'liar' her mom screamed now
get out of my face and get to bed.
Late, that night on the nightly news they
reported about 'a little girl who had been
killed from being beaten black and blue
by her parents, the girls mom was 'apalled'.
Her mom said 'how could any parent do that
to their own kid'!?
The girl sat confused, she had just told mom
about what her dad did and her mom called
her a 'liar' it's just 'denial is so easy'.
Copyright © Author Rhonda Kay Hero - Wilson | Year Posted 2010
Sometimes there are no words
No words to describe the pain
No relief of grief to look towards
Except to know their lives weren’t in vain
Sometimes there are no words
To describe the feel
Of no goodbye
They say you must move forward
They say you must stay strong
But where are ‘they’
When you feel you can’t go on?
Sorrow, shock, and tragedy
The words ring so true
Paralyzed and numb
And still feeling blue
Why did you leave?
It only just begun
You laid down to sleep
When our race was not yet won
Sometimes there are no words
No words that one can say
Except to say “I miss you”
Each and every day
Copyright © Andrea Deitemeyer | Year Posted 2014
Dropped out of school
At an early age
Lived on the streets
Because, I disgusted my mother
She thought I was a poor example
Of true Christian beliefs
At an early age
She religiously drummed into me
‘blood is thicker than water’
Here I am today confused, lonely and hungry
No one protecting me
No home to go too
Just, peoples eye for an eye,
tooth for a tooth mentality
Praying for the sun to shine
To feel some warmth again!
Sun rays of hope, lighting me up
To live through this darkness without fear
With a heart full of faith
No matter what happens to me, now!
If only I could drink my salty tears
It would sustain me for a lifetime
Your tears are worth nothing, around here
You’re classed as weak and venerable
Only attracting death
Your life worth nothing!
Save me from myself
I am my best friend
I am my worst enemy
My prayers and dreams
Lost in the wind
Blowing around like autumn leaves
The rain washing them away
Down the drain into the sewage
Rolling with the seasons
Year after year
Survival for the fittest!
Surviving on the love
Hidden, inside me
Being my strength and guide
My personal lifeline
In surviving this crazy world
We all live in
Copyright © Amy Rose | Year Posted 2013
From the wood where coyotes play
Blackie cat came on a summer’s day.
Called seemingly, to fill the place
where Rocky the cat lay dreaming.
A proud old tom who’d seen his end
Rocky had held it long at bay.
A Guardian was he of Mom you see,
but when he passed she’d stay.
And he’d not leave till he knew
she would not be alone…
He’d found ole Blackie for her
to give them both a happy home.
Blackie and he had many a day
of lolling in the grass and sun.
But Rocky’s porch he would not share
that was for Mom and he the only one.
She feed them both, each to his own
and cared for both in kind.
Rocky’s plan, he was the man…
was to not leave her alone inside.
So, Rocky's sweet self sacrifice
of staying much too long
was blessed with painless passing
He died in Mommy’s arms.
Now everyday, ole Blackie comes
as Rocky told him too.
To keep his Mommy company
another Guardian true.
Still too frightened to come inside,
Mom’s sure he will one day.
And on that day they’d both be sure
that Blackie’d come to stay.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2010