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Something bad happened in 1990 on the 28th of May.
It turned out not to be such a great Memorial Day.
I saw a very beautiful girl who looked like she was sixteen or seventeen.
She was one of the most beautiful girls I had ever seen.
I wrote a note and put it in her storm door.
She was younger than I thought and her parents were pretty sore.
She was only fourteen, that was four years younger than me.
They told me to leave her alone and I agreed.
But I really liked her and it was painful not to be able to date her.
I wonder who she's with all these years later.
THIS IS A TRUE STORY THAT HAPPENED 30 YEARS AGO.
When I was a kid,
I had a labrador.
He was beaten, beaten his blood out of his face.
I wish I can help him.
But I was beaten too.
By my daddy,
sometimes by my mommy too.

I used to go to school
to escape the chaos in my house.
School was worse.
They bullied me throwing my water bottle away.
I was whipped
with my dad's leather belt
for loosing my water bottle.
The labrador used to stare at me,
he wish he could help.
I went house without
pens, napkins,
torn notebooks and torn uniforms.
whipped, whipped, whipped
my childish pale flesh.

One Day I walked to house
without a pencil eraser.
I was not sad.
I was not scared.
I got beaten a lot of times.
But-
I went house and saw
my labrador
dead.
I did not cry.
Accepted my quota of whips
and took a walk outside.
I did not cry.
This poem is very personal to me. I always believe kids need more attention and care. But unfortunately, some of them are not getting it.
Sam 4d
how
another chapter just keep reading
hearts not broken but im bleeding
the other half will never care
though shes numb shes always there

smiling words when she cuts me
dripping venom while she guts me
im always winning or on the way
numb im numb another day

you can do a lot when you dont feel pain
but not so much when you feel insane
my body aches from standing up
i have good friends to fill my cup

or my lungs
my head
my heart
expectations will rip you apart

thats why im bad thats why im bad
you expect too much from me dad
ill cut your trust ill burn your hope
mom its just how i coop

i love you all i love you now
dont ask where just ask how
this poem has a lot of mixed emotions attached to it
ava May 19
i take a piece from both of my parents
my mothers sensitivity, and longing of the feeling of love.
her hypochondria, and her attitude.
when i was younger i promised id be nothing like her, we always seemed to but heads but as i grow older i see so much of her in me.
i see my father’s manipulative ways in me,
the way i pick people apart until they scream.
i was cursed with his argumentative ways, and his strong opinions.
i watched my father tell my mother she was less of what she was my whole life, and shes wiped her own tears. kept her head high. fed the kids like she was told and washed the dishes when she was done.
they never slept in the same bed. never kissed. never hugged.
when they broke up, i was confused. i thought that was love?
he always made it so clear he never needed her, he rubbed it in her face, and she still stayed. for 9,125 days she stayed. she convinced herself it was love. she convinced herself she was doing the right thing by inhaling his insecurities but she knew it was wrong.
she left.
he broke,
he needed her she didnt need him.
he needed her to hold him together because he was the one who was really broken.
he was feeding off of her and he couldnt stand seeing her not need him.
they broke up 8 years ago and hes never let a woman even come close to taking her place.
watching that taught me to see whats in front of you.
now im proud to be like my mom.
Mikey Kania May 18
i just have to deal with something
i just have to deal with something
my father would tell me as a child
then he was gone for hours

like sun in the night he had vanished
he used to go away every evening
while years were melting
and he always did the same:

my father would play the piano
my father would play the guitar
my father would sing and drink
my father would meet a woman

years were melting and i grew up
an hour here, two hours there
peng, now you're eighteen
a delinquent without a role-model

zoom, how fast time had passed by
rivers of oblivion in my father's eyes
he looked at me like looking into a mirror
he talked to me and only talked about himself

my father never really raised me
i am a lion you know, i have to be strong
feel me or not; go away or stay; be hetero or gay
nothing of it matters: i am my own daddy

fatherhood is a matter of interpretation
each father is flawless and full of flaws
my father was absent and never tried to stay
now i am a father, struggling with my demons
Today is a good day.
Bee May 17
you are a **** up, but you don’t have to be one
- what i wish my parents would have taught me
Mikey Kania May 16
A tap on my left shoulder
I am roused from my sleep
I turn and see my daughter
Who's been dead 3 years last week

She pulls me from my slumber
Humming broken lullabies
"Where're we going, dear?"
"Hush, it's a surprise"

She brings me to the subway
Down abandoned tracks
Graffitied walls like bathroom stalls
It's too late to turn back

She stops me in a room
Where people stand in wait
Silence presses in on the ceiling
Words that can't escape

My daughter sits on the tracks
And beckons me to as well
The people engrave words on brick
Like they're under a sort of spell

"Watch as it spreads"
She said in a hushed tone
I was about to ask what she meant
But then I felt it in my bones

The silence of the elders
Crashed through my throat and lungs
I felt the air thicken
Acid burned my tongue

Darkness pressed around me
A suffocating mass
I could not make a noise
She laid me on the tracks

It was all dimly familiar
The rumble without noise
The ghosts gathered around me
It was time to make a choice

Fools, I tried to say
But I choked on my own air
A shudder swept my body
I closed my eyes in prayer

I woke up in my bed
Sore from head to toe
Shaking from the recollection
Of what happened so long ago
I am really touched by this poem written by a poet from allpoetry. Asked to repost it and was given permission. Thank you, E.G. Simmons.

Have not read something like this in a long time.

All best and much love
Mikey
I would rather live my life
Chasing my childish dreams
Then wait for them to pass by
Until they're too far away
For me to reach them.

I don't want to be like my parents
Who work so hard for the money
But not for their personal happiness
I wish they can look in the mirror
And meet their real selves again.

They say it's for the best
For the family, to be precise
Why would they believe
That their unfulfilled lives
Will benefit me?

I don't see a loving sacrifice in their eyes
I see a dark hole wanting to be filled
With dreams once more.
Thoughts?
Nola Leech May 15
MOM
When I’m sad all I think about is you
Sometimes I wish you were dead or I just wasn’t born to you
Because you told me you loved me so many times
And it wasn’t true
I trusted you to help me, I needed you to save me more than anyone in the world
But you abandoned me for him
You choose him over me
And that **** still messes with me
I can’t stop thinking about him touching me
And how even when you heard my story
You still wanted to be with him
It didn’t even phase you
When I was a cutter
And I begged you day and night to make me a doctors appointment
But you were too embarrassed to say anything
I screamed at you saying I’d end up killing myself if you didn’t do anything
Until I decided to overdose and you called your husband first to tell him I did this all because of a boy
A boy? You honestly thought I’d **** myself over a ******* boy? I tried to **** myself because your husband who knew me since I was seven, who was supposed to protect me
Was always touching my ***** and asking me to undress in front of him
And many more things you know happened but refused to admit
You knew before I told you but you didn’t care
And you stuck me in a psych ward for 9 days and didn’t even visit me once
You let your husband who molested me since I was 10 tell me that there’d be people who would try to cut me and hurt me
How it’d be the worst day of my life like I wasn’t scared enough
You didn’t let me talk to the one person who understood me because you were insecure that I loved her more than you
You were right I’ve always loved her more than you
Always
I don’t care that you don’t love me
Sure it’d be nice but I have enough
Even though that when I’m not on my meds or I’m sad I think of you
I don’t love you
I don’t want you
I shouldn’t want anything to do with you
I want a mom
I want my biological mom
But not you
The person you were supposed to be
The one who loved me
Not the one who lied to me
Not the one who didn’t believe me
The one I could laugh with
The one who said she’d do anything to protect me
But I guess those were all lies too, huh?
Just a depressed little poem about someone who didn't love me back.. It's whatever
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