Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
I'm terribly depressed and nobody seems to notice All are too busy wrapped up in themselves My mother says it's my own fault for not listening when she told me to leave My siblings couldn't be bothered  They either too young to understand Drowning their sorrows in drink Or simply never around My father, well he is another  story He accuses me of poisoning him and holding him at knife point According to him I'm the reason for  all his problems I've unmanned him and killed my mother, who is surprisingly still alive Now I ask you how am I an eighteen year old girl responsible for my father's manhood  When I defend myself against him, my family all agree that I was in the wrong and he only a victim It matters not to them that my fist do less damage than  his words have done to my sanity They worship at his feet no matter what wrong he does them It's not that they are blind to his faults, they choose to ignore them They now see me as a substitute culprit to persecute in his place My only crime being unwilling to let a bully dictate my life It's true he has never raised a hand to me, but sometimes I wish he would Cause surely it would hurt less than the words he flings so carelessly It's true I've hit him and I make no excuses for myself I've never held him at knifepoint, all I said was I'd **** myself So it's no wonder I'm terribly depressed
0
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
The Sins Of a Daughter
I'm terribly depressed and nobody seems to notice All are too busy wrapped up in themselves My mother says it's my own fault for not listening when she told me to leave My siblings couldn't be bothered  They either too young to understand Drowning their sorrows in drink Or simply never around My father, well he is another  story He accuses me of poisoning him and holding him at knife point According to him I'm the reason for  all his problems I've unmanned him and killed my mother, who is surprisingly still alive Now I ask you how am I an eighteen year old girl responsible for my father's manhood  When I defend myself against him, my family all agree that I was in the wrong and he only a victim It matters not to them that my fist do less damage than  his words have done to my sanity They worship at his feet no matter what wrong he does them It's not that they are blind to his faults, they choose to ignore them They now see me as a substitute culprit to persecute in his place My only crime being unwilling to let a bully dictate my life It's true he has never raised a hand to me, but sometimes I wish he would Cause surely it would hurt less than the words he flings so carelessly It's true I've hit him and I make no excuses for myself I've never held him at knifepoint, all I said was I'd **** myself So it's no wonder I'm terribly depressed
Zig1
Written by
20/F/South Africa
Nov 17, 2018
Nov 17, 2018 at 12:30 PM UTC
Request permission to use this poem