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248 Posts
Discussion Starter · #1 ·
There are many people who can string meaningless words together. Others call this dribble "poetry," but there is no meaning behind it. People write for praise, profit, and attention. I try not to.

I write for me and just hope others like the works I produce. Edgar Allen Poe once wrote in an essay: "the point, I mean, that Beauty is the sole legitimate province of the poem." The point of a poem is to be true to the raw emotion in one's soul. A true poet is able to take the emotion that many hide, bring it to the forefront of his or her mind and then place it in a form that others are either in awe of or stirred up by. A true poet can take the simplest thing on earth and turn it into art through words.

I somehow dare to call myself a poet.

In these pages, I will take you through the life of a child and then a young lady that has struggled and somehow found peace with herself. It is a restless peace that contradicts itself in every aspect of existence, but it is still my peace. I will take you through my thoughts, views, and raw emotions I have felt during my short time here on this Earth. I will document my interactions with the world and its people through rhyme and metre, trying to cast them in new lights and shadow.

I thank you for your time, and I pray that you are open to what I write.

Have a Blessed day.​

248 Posts
Discussion Starter · #2 ·
To Grandma​

I was weak and you held me close
I was a disgrace and you took me home
You loved me until I could stand
You took me into your loving hands

You parented me when my parents couldn't
You loved me when they wouldn't
No matter what I seemed to do
I could do no wrong in the eyes of you

But then Grandpa died and you changed
Your eyes were different, deranged
You still loved me and held me so
I thought it was okay and you would know

I was hurting when you turned a blind eye
To your son who made me want to die
Because he made me his slave of sex
Yet you made me always be the best

I cried when you told me Bobby died
My brother and your son made us cry
Together but again you changed
After that you were never the same

You hit me and your once loving hand
Became that of a monsterous tyrant
You slapped me, spit in my face
And made me feel like a disgrace

Now I know that we are far apart
But you will always be in my heart
Though you scare me all night through
I want you to know I still love you.

248 Posts
Discussion Starter · #3 ·
One More Swig, Just One More​

Just another swig and I'll be okay
It's just another nightmare, another day
It's nice to hear the voices telling me
That another drink will make me see
The truths behind your once-lies
All my life it's been, "Go off and die"
Or even "Hope you're happy now"
When I'd make a mistake somehow
The drinking began when I was nine
When I was handed some from a line
Of beverages, all laced and sweet
To make me think them a pleasant treat
To this day, I still think poorly of
The family that let their "love"
Seep into the alcohol I now consume
As I drink, All I think about is you

As your sick body falls apart
And a smile spreads across my heart
To think of you in so much pain
Age takes its morbid toll again
Your hands that touched my sleeping form
Are now achey and ever so worn
The mouth that licked my neck
Is condemned to arthritic death
The feet that carried me to your room
Are now sick, pained, and doomed
I grin in grim satisfaction at your strife
I guess karma happens in everyone's life

Another swig is all I am able to take before
I stand to make my arm and hand pour
Out the sweet liquor, the beautiful poison
That holds me captive even as I pour it
Out into the tub because the sink is covered
In my vomit as I try to get rid of my lover
My hand, it shakes to know what I am doing
Then I hear your voice, and you sing
In my ear, "You stupid child, you will never win"
As I struggle hard with my deepest sins
I cringe as I feel the scars burn again
The ones I bear for making a bargain
With you to keep me alive and I'd do
Anything that you asked me to
As long as I was your servant girl, little slave
Everything was alright, it was all okay

No more swigs are left and I'm unsure of
Why I haven't even escaped the memory of
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