Broken bother's Lullaby

Status: Finished

Broken bother's Lullaby

Status: Finished

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Broken bother's Lullaby

Poem by: BlackR0se

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Poem by: BlackR0se

Details

Genre: Poetry

Houses:

Summary

A girl finds out a secrect about her bother who she and everybody else looks up to. and she tries to help him and ends up taking blame for evrything he does, such as stealing from their parents. In the end the "guns" are cops, he gets in deep trouble and she takes the blame, cuz y not? she the bad seed.

Summary

A girl finds out a secrect about her bother who she and everybody else looks up to. and she tries to help him and ends up taking blame for evrything he does, such as stealing from their parents. In the end the "guns" are cops, he gets in deep trouble and she takes the blame, cuz y not? she the bad seed.

Content

Submitted: February 11, 2012

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Content

Submitted: February 11, 2012

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Shut your blood shot eyes.

Let me sing you a lullaby.

Just sleep away their lies.

Slip away again.

You thought I never knew.

I was the only one to notice.

I let it go when you stole my things.

I forgave all the fights you bring.

When you stole mom’s money I took the blame.

You gave your little sister only a smile.

You act like this is some game.

I went through hell.

I feel deeper into my shell.

Still I forgive you.

Let your heavy head of lies rest.

Hopefully you have dreams, only the best.

I know that I can’t do a thing.

So a lullaby will I sing.

 

Until you finally drift away.

I can just pray you’ll wake up the next day.

When you sleep again.

You’re almost the way you were back then.

Sometimes I don’t want you to wake.

I know you have reasons for doing it.

But in truth I don’t give a shit.

I don’t care,

Because I’ll always be there.

That’s the only thing I can swear.

 

You did something you couldn’t fix.

You came to me for help.

You shouldn’t have.

Guns rushed all pointed at your heart.

Your baby blue eyes begging.

It tore my heart apart.

So I did something I can’t regret.

They guns I meet.

 

I remember their whispers….

“She’s was such a troubled child...”

“If only she was like her brother...”

“I heard she stole from her own family...”

“What a screwed up kid…”

Well you can’t really call them that.

If they say them so loud.

But I’m proud.

So ill never let them know it hurt.

So ill never say a word about anything.

Just let me sing you a lullaby.

And say my final goodbye.


 


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