Let Me Down

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Growing up is a let down

I'm being held up by giant hands, which hold me up ever so high, the eyes I look into are a old waste of time, my white jumpsuit is covered in stains from missed placed food, from the elders that grow me up, I turn my head and see the lazy cat at the fireplace sleep, while my body is to young to carry me, but my mind is fixed on glory.
All I am right now is a name, mum teaching all these moves, life ain't no game. I sit in this seat, it's comfy and I'm relaxed, sucking mother's breasts is the problem, without being taxed, so I sit here and teething but Christmas is coming, for this is the season, but I never knew id get born, I never knew I'd feel this way about my own flesh and blood, I never knew my fingers would grow and when mother kisses me cheek blushes show, from my point of view everything is right, even know I only sleep at night, where my cot rocks me to dream, I have plans but my legs haven't grown, do I want to wait, or shall I fall and faint out of my open window, and land on the soft cobble ground.
Why is my mother always there when I'm in need, her breast always large when it's time for me to feed, but the door slams shut and there isn't even a but, and a drunk man strolls in making mumma mad, his voice to me is unclear but he claim's he's my dad. 
I've now grown to the age where my legs can walk for themselves, all this still carries on, all this mess confusing mess and negative doubts in my household, so I climb my stick tree house and talk to my best est friends which are my teddy bears, up here nobody cares.
I ask my bear's the question's for they know the answers, but because they know the answer it is why I ask them the questions, for I know the answer, my biggest problem growing up is my brain was my own cancer, cries still come from the house below and smoke still hangs from the rooftop, on this cool day.


Submitted: December 05, 2016

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