Wee dovey singing in tree,
The sun shall soon rise
Greater than love,
But not for me.

Red deer on the fray moors,
The winds embrace you
For you are rich,
But I am poor.

Wildflowers all bright in gang,
Good earth psalms you
Deep in rootings,
I never sang.

Dark feathered crow moaning,
I have suffered mean loss,
My truest love gone,
Now I must rove.

On Chicago streets every night
Young lives are sacrificed
Don't turn your back
It's *** for tat
They shoot without thinking twice

I watched my father scrunch his eyebrows together
whenever my mother said something he didn't like,
his impatience seeping through his dark skin,
apparent in the way he turned his body away
as if he wanted to run from all this
but he's trapped now, trapped forever.
I listened as my mother told me she did not want to stay
and my brother and I are the only things anchoring her unto this godforsaken house
of peeling white paint and crumbling walls and endless shouts and burning words.
I watched them hold each other when things got tough
and I knew it wasn't because of love—
it was because they were the nearest things to each other.
At a very young age I knew love was something that dissolves,
a flower you water everyday,
a story you never stop writing,
And some people, they don't know,
that they have stopped watering,
and they're running out of ink, only on page 3.
Little girl me knew.
Big girl me continues to watch it unfold,
dead petals in their hair
and dark ink between their fingers—
dry

Thank you all so very much, for speaking life into my poetry.
Thank you for caring so much for other people as well here.
Thank you for writing beautiful poems here on hellopoetry.
Especially the ones about your inner pains, my Friend thank.
For both kind of poems , God can use to heal others here.
For the ones that are honestly written from your experience.
Cam be use to show others that they are not alone here.
Thus revealing Hope to those that at the moment feel no Hope.
But there is truly Hope, he died for our sins two thousand years ago.