Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2014
Oh Heaven, don't let your kid really be me.
God forbid,
I want to be a writer, maybe a poet, for the rest of my life.
God forbid,
I love her, though it's forbidden I dream of her again.
God forbid,
I grow up different than you had planned for us.

Oh Hell, don't let your kid really be me.
God forbid,
I live your religion better than you and your illusions.
God forbid,
I walk through the door and plead for peace, just once.
God forbid,
I draw another "dark" sketch and tape it to your mirror.

Oh Help, don't let your kid really be me.
God forbid,
I wear a skirt or shorts or skinny jeans and people see.
God forbid,
I remember all your transgressions and don't let them go.
God forbid,
I stop pretending and show you the psychopath you've made.

But you will never be able to give me help,
that would mean pointing fingers at yourself.
God forbid that I've ****** up my life like you did yours.
Mostly to my mother.
Just a rant-type.
WickedHope
Written by
WickedHope  27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell
(27/F/Not Boston, Almost Hell)   
Please log in to view and add comments on poems