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Alexis Olmstead Poem
She has seen things in her life
That no child should have seen
Like powder on the edge of a knife
As mother inhales happiness and exhales strife
The frail child watches those eyes begin to gleam
She has seen things in her life
One the mother was a wife
But once father left mother started to lean
Towards powder on the edge of a knife
Mothers prized possession is that knife
Carefully hidden under the bed an wrapped in jean
She has seen things in her life
Once her father took brothers life
And the recurring losing theme
Led her to powder on the edge of a knife
Now daughter also experiences stffe
Growing into a fragile teen
She has seen things in her life
Like powder on the edge of a knife
Copyright © Alexis Olmstead | Year Posted 2010
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Details |
Alexis Olmstead Poem
This is the part where I open the door,
Give him a kiss, and say goodbye.
Knowing that our love is almost no more.
Knowing that tomorrow I will try not to cry
Give him a kiss and say goodbye
Let his headlights fade into the warm summer night
Knowing that tomorrow I will try not to cry
The next time we speak our words are lit by cell phone light
Let his headlights fade into the warm summer night
And I will remember his voice, till once again he is mine
The next time we speak our words are lit by cell phone light
I put down the device, and tell everyone that I'm fine.
And I will remember his voice, till once again he is mine
But slowly, ever so slowly, my hope is diminishing.
I put down the device, and tell everyone that I'm fine,
That its a sad movie that I was just finishing.
But slowly, ever so slowly, my hope is diminishing.
He looks at me with a hardness in his eyes
Like in the sad movie I was just finishing
Where two lovers said their eternal goodbyes
He looks at me with a hardness in his eyes,
I know that our love is no more
Where two lovers said their eternal goodbyes
This is the part, where I open the door.
Copyright © Alexis Olmstead | Year Posted 2010
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Details |
Alexis Olmstead Poem
I used to have a mother. But I was never her daughter.
She prefered to pretend I was never there and instead I went up in smoke.
Just like her life, up in smoke that went too.
She would sit there on the bed everyday and pretend instead she had a maid
And I would choke on the smoke that filled the room
And choke on my tears that I was too afraid to cry
And I would watch her smoke.
Then I would clean up her food
And clean up her clothes
And clean up her vomit
And I would watch her smoke.
I used to have four brothers. They disappeared like smoke.
She smoked so much that she forgot how to take care of us.
Its not like we were hard to see, (once you got used to the smoky haze)
We lived in a one bedroom pickers cabin.
The two youngest were oblivious. They didn't know what the smoke
meant but the Oldest, he did. He and I both knew.
And we hoped for someone to save us.
And we didn't cry when she hit us.
And we watched her smoke.
She had a boyfriend, too. And he knew what the smoke
meant.
And he liked the taste of the smoke.
And he let us get lost in the smoke.
And we watched them smoke.
I had a mother once. I forgot her.
I left her to her smoke
And sometimes I shed a single tear for what could've been,
should have been.
But there she sat, the smoke
surrounding her.
And she let us see her smoke.
Let us get lost in the smoke.
And we watched her smoke.
Now, I realize that I never had a mother.
There once was a woman who was supposed to take care of me
But instead smoked.
And I will always be sitting there in that room,
Choking on tears I'm too afraid to cry
And choking on smoke
I will always remember having to be her maid.
I will always remember cleaning her clothes
And her food
And her vomit.
And I will always remember watching her smoke.
Copyright © Alexis Olmstead | Year Posted 2010
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