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Why are you here
I wish you could disappear
see a life full of pain you choose to fill it with fear
She saw the light in the dark she stopped and stared for a year
Riding a car without a wheel and you expect me to steer
I hope you close the door
Feelings are way too sacred
was born without a heart you made me one filled with hatred
killed before I could smile in my mothers eyes
was reincarnated into a baby full of lies

Why are you here is there even a reason
Gave me a book made by a racist to believe in
gave me words just to use for deceiving
Millions of kids who grow up to be negligent leaders
Blame you for my mother being addicted to beer
Then be blamed by the man who's father caused these tears
It's just senseless violence,
nobody going anywhere but heaven
you the reason I've dreaming bout death since the age of seven
infact they're nightmares I stare blankly at the wall
And trauma builds when you're hearing them fight with no one to call
Fell down a well now im a ghost who seek revenge
spend my peace spreading violence to another genertion
A poem about suffering from different pain, and how someone's See's it as unnecessary
SpiritHeart67 Jun 25
For all three
of my Sons,
Whom I Love and Appreciate
Forever, Without End...

You Dance to the Beat
of a Different Drum;
If you Lose your Balance,
I will Always
Be Here
To Steady You...
Charmour Jun 24
Strict parents have obedient children?
Actually no they have children who
Don't feel safe in their own home
Who flinch at loud noises
Who get scared when someone gets too close
Who scream when someone appears randomly
Who shriek when someone tries to touch them
Who go numb in arguments
Who will stare at you when you shout
Who dare to live even in distress
Who will stay awake all night
Who spend their life trying to be the best
Who are ignored unlike the rest
Abandoned , shattered ,
Stressed , always anxious......
Ellie Hoovs May 22
I crack it open softly
letting a single sliver of soft golden light
pour in, a solitary ray of sunshine breaking
through the clouds.
I hear the whisper of her steady breathing,
rhythmic waves ebbing and flowing,
on the slow inhale of the sea.
Her old penny copper hair twinkles in the light,
strands borrowed from a seraph's braid.
I envy her easy slumber,
the way her lips part with the stillness
of full relaxation.
I tiptoe across the carpet,
a sentinel seeking to capture the moment
in a bottle, or in my marrow.
I sit beside her and marvel at the miracle of her,
how she was forged from my very blood,
from my very bones,
smirking; she has my spirit too.
The world will not be ready,
not for her fierce blue eyes,
nor the blade I'll teach her to wield with her tongue
and a spine that won't need fire to be steeled.
I kiss the top of her resting head;
she does not stir.
I retreat in tiptoe,
close it delicately behind me,
and I pray.
I pray she never forgets the joy
of floating bubbles.
I pray she always uses the word NO
as powerfully as the age of 3 declares it.
I pray she will continue to run to me,
for hugs,
for comfort from every dark,
for love that will cover over every hurt,
and tend to every need.
And I pray she could always know this peace
and the guard of a door
opened and closed
by a heart, humbled and grateful.
afrota May 10
Forever, my little one.
From my most sincere love,
I long to give you the world —
my greatest privilege
is to witness your becoming
a woman like no other.

From the seeds I once gathered,
a garden of possibilities
shall bloom within you.
In a soil rich with courage,
where once there were thorns,
flowers will blossom,
bringing color to the lives
of all around you.

Along your path,
wisdom will be your guide.
You will not repeat my stumbles.
With no illusions or masks,
you will brave the snares of life,
and grow even greater.
Believe this:
greatness awaits you.

I see my reflection in your eyes:
stronger, more assured,
eternal in your humility and grace.
In your smile, I lose myself,
only to find you once again.

I will always be by your side,
to comfort you in uncertainty.
We will laugh together —
from the simplest joys
to the necessary trials,
already overcome
by the courage
of the brave one within you.
And we will celebrate
every one of your victories —
forever,
one soul, together.
Monkey Writes Apr 18
My son’s eyes have an innocent look.
Chocolate is the color of his lips.
Clothes once clean, are smeared with ****,
Or spotted by an ice cream cone that drips.

I’ve seen damage done both day and night,
Of a magnitude you’d never believe,
Done by my son while out of sight.
Destruction Patton could never achieve.

I love to hear him sleep, yet I know well
When he is awake, there will be sound.
He’ll make ‘music’ with horn, drum, or bell.
My son, when he plays, you know he’s around.

And yet, by heaven, I love to be with him.
Even if snot is crusted on his chin.
An homage to 'My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun'
Joss Lennox Apr 4
Happiness starts with me
clearing the debris
for all to see
changing the frequency
on internal healing
finding joy in the small things
through hope in believing
fueled by enthusiasm
sparking opportunities
to turn dreams
into realities
creating new memories
protecting our souls harmony
together, with my family
I am I
and only me
positive affirmations for a healthy mindset
There lies a tale of love profound,
Every parents' sacrifices, often unsound.
Hard to understand the ways,
As children are in their younger days.

For in parent’s shout, a lesson lies,
In every beating, a love truly tries,
To guide the steps, to light life’s way,
In the hopes of children, parents find their sway.

Through the trials of suffering, stories shared,
Lies wisdom gained, for you to be prepared.,
In every embrace, in every tear,
A parent's love lies, it truer.

Yet in this dance of life's cruel jest,
Children falter, put to the test,
Expecting only to be understood,
While parents give all, as best they could.

The love bestowed, a true treasure,
A legacy of utmost care,
Not for reward or riches sought,
But for a future, dearly bought.

To grant the gifts they never knew,
A love so pure, every day it's new,
But in return, just to understand,
Seems oft too much, in life's grandstand.

But still, they hope, in silent plea,
That children learn, and someday see,
The depth of love, the sacrifices made,
In every step, in every shade.

For in the end, when they depart,
It's not for praise or pride of heart,
But for the hope, that they will find,
A gift of joy, true and kind.

So let us cherish, the love they give,
And in their footsteps, learn to live,
For in their love, our futures lie,
A gift of love, reaching high.

By
Sanji-Paul Arvind
Linden Lark Mar 27
“Make the child fear you. Some people like to say respect is important, but nothing is more respectful than a well-trained child who fears you.”

Ask him how well that turned out.
All cold and alone, while three humans—half of him—walk the earth without a shred of regret
that we will never exchange something as simple as hello again.
It’s a true story. He told that to my aunt when she was about to have her first child.
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