The Journey Of Life (Novice)

Reads: 178  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
My fist poem, please go easy on me. I'm 17 years old and I remember how I felt when I was being abused. I've not added ages within this poem as many people are abused at many different ages. I'm trying to raise the awareness so you can feel what emotions go on through someone's mind who has no options.

Submitted: July 31, 2015

A A A | A A A

Submitted: July 31, 2015

A A A

A A A


Concealed away, a gift to be received.

Moments ago, I was nothing! now I'm conceived.

My Mother's hopes her dreams achieved.

Months go by, My mother begins to struggle.

My Father's goals his hopes juggle.

 

A flashing light, smiling faces dawned upon me.

Open to the world's harsh contents I'm apparently free.

Years go by my intelligence improves.

Mother changes her true love moves.

 

Spoiled rotten to earn my mother's trust.

Mother's eye sight fades surrounded by dust.

Behind her back he would adjust.

I feel only the pain deep down below.

Perhaps this is the biggest blow?

For the pain I feel is not physical, too hurt to show.

 

Time is a hole in which no dump truck can fill.

Can't handle the pain anymore, don't have the will.

Perhaps I only have one option; after all it's just one pill.

My life is surrounded by joy and love but look twice.

For every good thing has its price.

My heart so battered so trapped in a vice.

 

No one by my side just pure blackness.

All of a sudden a hear sobs and cries but to me happiness.

He's dead! It's real... could this be my madness?

My heart will slowly become un-jailed.

Perhaps this is a new character becoming unveiled?

 

I feel reborn again, filled with hopes and dreams.

Throwing away my suicide schemes.

The key may be given however I'm still caught,

Learning a lesson no man/women and child should be taught.

Surrounded it hurts, can I handle the fraught?

 

Memories can be changed but never forgot.

No wallet big enough, my happiness cannot be bought.

My life is based around that one knot.

One trigger, one hand, one head blowing shot.


© Copyright 2017 J20. All rights reserved.