#parental
A cold November morn
You came into this world
So fragile and helpless
My sweet first born
I embrace you tightly
While rocking you to sleep
I never thought I'd feel this way
To have a love so deep
You are the greatest gift of all
You are my everything
I'll stand beside you
As you grow older
Two years have passed
Now you're my little boy
The sound of your laughter
Fills my heart with joy
As you discover this world on your own
And you take such pride
I hope that someday you will know
This love I feel inside
You are the greatest gift of all
You are my everything
I'll stand beside you
As you grow older
I'll stand by your side
I'll be there to hold you tight
I'll help you to grow
My love will always show
You are the greatest gift of all
You are my everything
I'll stand beside you
As you grow older
Dec 12, 2025
Dec 12, 2025 at 11:58 AM UTC
"
I can't speak or breathe,
My eyes set on him,
My treasured mice,
Shivering,
Nestled in fear,
An audience and a witness,
To his mother being dissected by her lover,
Transplanting every resentment from his tumor,
A cancer sprouted from disputes,
From his eyes, an eyesore,
A child, his reflection,
From his mouth, reprimanding the law and god,
to question our connection.
A family, his home, their home,
From his arms,
to embrace a married woman,
The reward for patience,
Waiting for his lover's death,
Enduring the bills and ridicule,
The sacrifice he's willing to make for her and not for us,
A trust given, manipulation he said,
From his legs,
To run past beyond,
No more hesitation,
Just run, run,
Forget every milestone, every bump,
Trample everyone who wronged you,
Because you are always right,
Said by god himself.
As the father yelled his preach his love and dedication, devotion, and sacrifice,
Bashing his bible against the sinner on her deathbed,
Unable to speak, unable to argue,
Unlike before when she stood tall,
Where she screams at us to be better,
Yelling for us to grow,
Peeling her flesh for us to improve,
Draining every drop of blood and sweat to give a future,
A smile that she and I shared,
The mask she wears and the gift I bear.
I'm sorry.
I can't speak for you,
Fight for you,
Yet you're always here for us,
Unlike us, some of us,
But not I and him,
One who hid,
One who stabbed.
I'm sorry.
I pushed you away,
I wanted to be alone,
Not like this,
What I want is for you to be happy,
But like me, you pushed away that too,
I can't gift you the world,
Yet I can gift you a petal,
For it is what I can do,
Yet you pushed away that too,
That's what I hate about you mom,
You tried to pluck the feathered heart of your son,
So I can soar,
You drilled my head of your harbinating child,
So I can be aware,
You place yourself as a wager for our future,
Yet your son wagers every doubt for your present,
In the end,
You won most,
But who's the cost?
While I won your coffin.
To you mother, I'm an angel,
So when the devil took me on a stroll,
Advertising for salvation,
You breathed your final wager.
Even if my father glee in victory,
The happiest he's ever been since your first date and marriage,
Be it peace or ease,
You placed your precious bets into me, us...
And especially your lover,
Knowing it'll be alright.
"
-Klausyuer: The ****** Poet
Dec 11, 2025
Dec 11, 2025 at 8:25 AM UTC
I begged you to stay but you couldn’t.
I pleaded to keep you but lost.
Countless years later.
The word home is still frozen and covered in frost. The warmth in my heart is fading.
The flame of my soul is snuffed out.
Nothing I say can bring you back.
Like a toddler I sit here and pout.
One day I won’t feel so empty.
One day I won’t feel so numb.
I’ll find you again somewhere someday and catch up under the setting sun.
Oct 4, 2025
Oct 4, 2025 at 10:29 PM UTC
You brought me into this world
To punish me for your mistake.
You could have terminated the misery;
Maybe you would have, in retrospect,
If only you reflected on anything
Other than the pain of your self-possession.
Maybe you’d see that I was born to lose,
Find myself worthy of every bruise.
You stripped me of my autonomy.
I’ll never find a way to make you sorry.
You’re a stranger to apology,
Too infatuated with commiseration
To hear me choke on the guilt,
Gasp through tempered oxygen,
A vessel knotted in tension.
A clenched fish of crushed hope.
A tightrope of flashbacks and fear.
Every slammed door
Echoes the silence you dragged me under.
Because it was your right
To raise me through spite,
To dim every light I find.
To push me towards the familiarity
Of cruelty in the vein of your malicious misery.
I never asked for this:
To be forced to kneel on eggshells
To someone so beneath me.
I’m proud to be antithetical to you,
A fragile ego void of empathy
And your bitterness you taught to never cease.
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 5:50 AM UTC
Please, please, please
Help me get through today with ease
As a child
With a mother
Who thought me a disease
May 11, 2025
May 11, 2025 at 12:12 PM UTC
I wish you’d rise above it all
And be the person I thought I saw.
The loving parent I dreamed you’d be,
Cherishing your kids unconditionally.
But once again, I see the truth—
That dream was never meant for you.
You taught us right from wrong, it’s true,
But failed to practice what you knew.
Believing yourself better than the rest,
Yet you’re no top-notch, high-class success.
Not even the middle ground you aspired to be,
But the dollar store version of what a parent shouldn’t be.
Your children are shattered, broken, and torn,
But instead of reflection, you point and scorn.
Blaming others, yet blind to this fact:
Every hand shaped the pain we’ve packed.
One told us love wasn’t ours to claim,
That our worth was tied to our weight and shame.
Another sought love and found none to give,
While one taught us grace in how to live.
The rest hid away, their courage sold,
Leaving us with lessons both cruel and cold.
But you, you’re the real masterstroke—
You taught us to carry everyone’s yoke.
To put ourselves last, to give and give,
Till there’s nothing left in us to live.
Now we’re all broken in different ways—
One’s near the grave, another astray,
And the last just fights to make it through the day.
They cry softly at night, their breath so thin,
You wouldn’t notice—it doesn’t fit in.
All they’ve ever wanted was to make you proud,
To feel seen, even once, above the crowd.
But your plans for them twist and betray,
Stealing their hope and their dreams away.
You rob them of money, of land, of peace,
All for a façade that will never cease.
Chasing a life to save face at work,
Pretending you’re more than a person who shirks.
But the truth is plain for all to see—
You’ve failed them, and you’ve failed me.
Jan 8, 2025
Jan 8, 2025 at 2:41 AM UTC
I could sentimentalise,
throw flowers on your memory
agonise the opportunity to part with any gratuity,
wish you could see every success
through meaningless desire to conjure what never was
what never will be.
As you ebbed away to degeneration,
every strip of dignity
was a drop in the temperature of your cold stare
that epitomised our tenuous connection.
Even if truth be told,
would there be anyone to understand
how you created something so arbitrarily
only to derivatively destroy it?
Aug 22, 2022
Aug 22, 2022 at 9:41 PM UTC
I'm afraid that if I die
People wont know things only I know
Like how N likes their carrots
Or how L loves her dad
Only I know this, like this
Of course others know some of this too, some of the time
But no one
Not one single person knows that you
You two
Are perfect
I mean this literally
I was gifted this knowledge when you were born
I know this viscerally, like this.
Or that you're beautiful in ways that make me hate words
In ways that render language hollow, meaningless, obscene
I am not being dramatic.
And also that you are good
By which I mean loveable
Like very and always
Fundamentally, inherently
This is not something you can ever change even though you'll probably try
And you might convince other people
Maybe even your dad, or your therapist, or your lover, or yourself
But you'll never convince me
I don't know why
I just know this
And I need you to know this too
Aug 6, 2022
Aug 6, 2022 at 12:53 AM UTC
I found a tiny piece of paper
With something scribbled on it
It reads,
"You are not worthless
Work hard and shut everyone's
**** mouth with it"
I smiled and remembered
I wrote it when I was scolded
By my mother in front of my whole class
When I got really bad marks in my Maths test(Ps:still a nightmare).
She screamed and said
"You can't do anything"
Also she said she is ashamed to even come to attend my PTM.
I was so humiliated at that time I cried like a 3 year old. Also everyone got their share of gossip.
I WAS THE JOKE NOW.
Now everytime anyone saw me studing , enacted like my mother in front of me. Or even worse....they would say "Dude padh le varna aunty na....she is very strict na..''
At that time I had no choice to study and keep myself motivated (thus I wrote this paper).
Final exams results came
I got highest marks in my class and have done extremely good in my maths test.
I was so happy and contented.
Every joke on me had an answer now.
Now what is the need to share this incident.?
Actually there is....I just want to question each parent why they attach their status in the society with the marks of their children ???
See I will not say what my mom did was wrong because her intension was in the right place.. infact her words ignited the fuel inside me. (She knows how to use the reverse psychology)
Also marks can be improved by either ways but why we adopt the strict one all the time???
JUST TAKE A MOMENT AND THINK ABOUT IT.
(Cuz your whole life must have faced this scenario once in your life).
Also share your opinions on this story.
Aug 12, 2020
Aug 12, 2020 at 12:38 PM UTC
1. Routine. Make sure you have it. Whether it be taking a shower and brushing your teeth every morning, or it is smoking a cigarette and drinking a cup of coffee. I need you to have a routine sweetheart, it'll serve you when you're in high school.
2. Don't use violence. Treat others the way you want to be treated. The violence part? I know, easier said than done, but your dad had such a hard time in high school. He was suspended and almost got battery charges for hitting a girl. Also, your dad went to jail for abusing the effing crap out of your grandmother. So trust me please, when I say violence is not the answer.
3. Read. Write. Create. Repeat. Read John Green, Neil Hilborn, and Savannah Brown. Write as though your soul is on fire and this is the only way to put it out. Write every day, write about pain, guilt, shame, suffering. Write about all the bad things, but also show those glimmers of hope. Create. Make art that shocks and makes people think. Make masterpieces. Make art you don't like. Whatever you do, just make art. Do it because your dad would. Do it for the world. You have so much potential.
4. Don't join Facebook. You will get preconditioned to the fact Facebook is a right of passage and a sense of freedom, but trust me, it isn't. It'll turn you from an artist to one who searches for love in all the wrong places. One who strives off likes, and hearts, and good reactions. It will make you feel worthless on those days you get zero shares from the status you thought was golden. I love you and you can do this.
5. This one is hard for me to say, especially considering I'm one of many whose done it, but don't attempt suicide. You'll regret it the moment it doesn't work and cry the moment you realize what you've done. I will let you know regardless if it works or not, the amount of pain you put others in: will not change. There will always be pain. I love you sweetheart and you can do this.
6. Listen to loads of music. This should be your drug of choice. I'll make you a playlist of all your padre's favorite songs. Music does wonders. Music soothes, helps you create, lets you let it out, and the list goes on and on.
7. Discover yourself; embrace that. Whether you be gay, straight, or bi. Whether you're happy, sad, or content. Whether you're ill or not ill. BE YOURSELF. Be so much yourself, you have the amount of confidence of a great white shark. Those ******* those animals are CONFIDENT. (19 year old me would also like to insert that werk it qween is a totally acceptable phrase)
8. You are made of magic. You have the bones of stars and the eyes of bravery. Anywhere you walk is going to be a place where everyone knows your presence. You walk on red carpets of kindness and love, but also you smile bigger than anyone in the room.
See her? Yeah, she's my daughter. She's my light, life, and reason to function on bad days. She brings me so much joy that the only way to describe it is, become an addict, go into foster care and lose everything you've ever known for ~1.5 years, and then uproot yourself into the adult life, 1 day after graduating. After you've completed those steps and only managed to need to be resuscitated twice, then you get to go onto the pile of adult ******** that entails: paying bills, overdosing on abused drugs, being forced to sign a 'mutual termination' contract with the place you were living because you had a mental health flare up. Are you still alive? Okay cool, well now you're going to move into sober living and fall in love with the wrong person while being there, get into drugs even more than you were before (ironic, eh,) and now... after all that. You move away from hell. And fall in love with the child you never thought you'd have.
You bring me so much happiness, it's nearly ridiculous.
May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 12:37 PM UTC
it's my job.
to make it in life
it's my job.
to turn your wrongs into rights,
it's my job,
and I will shoulder your dishonor,
because I am your daughter.
Jan 28, 2019
Jan 28, 2019 at 9:41 AM UTC
I miss you
Myself, recurring
flapping through petals
of time
Rejecting the one by
My parents
Embracing, accepting
the One True Self
born into Mine.
Dec 13, 2018
Dec 13, 2018 at 10:33 AM UTC
mama, i made someone happy yesterday!
i smiled as the door opened
just as i always did
it was my first time to be chosen
to be honest i was so nervous
they made me try out so many clothes
they said i had to look as pretty as i should
they said they were trying to bring out
my youthful look...
i never thought that meant
more skin.
more chest.
more legs.
he was an old man
wrinkles ravaged round his face
yet his smile had no blemish
he stared at me
and chose me almost immediately
i was never more proud
yet i was clueless of what next to do
i should have wrote to you as early as then
but as soon as
we arrived
at my 'new home'
or at least that was how he called it
he called me to his room
he nearly had to kneel
in order to see me
eye
to
eye
i thought he was going to hug me
as he leaned in
he just undid my bra
his hands were huge
they cover almost my whole chest
he asked me to take of my shorts
and he was smiling
for once i knew
i was doing something right
i barely slid my undergarment off and he pressed me against the unsuspecting bed
he grabbed both my legs
as he told me to open them
while he tole me to close my eyes
he started
pushing against me
it was so so hard so painful
relentless excrutiating i had to
bite my tongue to stop myself
from screaming
i think i was bleeding?
i felt the blood pour out
i couldn't take it.
i couldn't ask him to calm down
it was just way too fast
he was panting breathing heavily
grunting driving himself too hard
it was like he could run out of breath
i wanted to make him stop
i really did
trust me.
but as soon as i tried to shout
or help him or something
he fell over
don't worry though he was still breathing
and his face
he just looked way too happy
i was paralyzed the rest of the day
until now i can barely stand up
but he was just so in bliss
i hope you're proud of me mama.
he said earlier he'd be taking me back
to the warehouse later
i don't know why though.
do you think he'll tell them i've been
a good daughter?
i hope so.
Dec 1, 2018
Dec 1, 2018 at 12:34 AM UTC
I watched your gracefully long,
inflated fingers stretch out
to dial a digital code
on your silvery, slatted intercom,
requesting, no, demanding, that Joel
hustle his way through the humble halls
to your dominion
from the flaccid factory at the opposite end
of the bulky building
that you now so proudly owned,
never willing
to proffer credit for the generous growth
to anyone but yourself.
Sitting on the seventies colorific plaid sofa
in the expanse of your stately second floor office
I watched you shuffle papers, take a long
drag of your slim menthol cigarette and
call across the hall to a father unlike your own.
Her father. That unfit, unworthy, plain Jane wife of yours.
But he wasn’t really hers, because they were all
hustling for you, weren’t they?
I heard my Papa call over to you
in his kind, quiet way,
to ask you to go easy
on the poor sucker
journeying to your jurisdiction,
which made your sky blue eyes crinkle
with obvious revulsion
at the thought of going easy
on one of the many indolent soldiers
doing your bidding
in the catacombs
of the facility, the likes of which
you rarely, if ever,
set that size 16 foot of yours.
Immediately changing face, I watched as
an enormous mustache-framed smile unfolded
over your classically Russian,
hand-carved vanilla face,
like an animated Asian fan
in a Geisha’s dexterous dance.
You looked at me in boyish anticipation as you asked me,
“Where shall we go for lunch today?”
When Joel entered the vaulted, double doorway, he made no sound
as he tread on the luxurious gold-threaded carpet that had been laid
merely one week before, at the disgust of your father-in-law.
As he entered, Joel’s hunched-back frame curved due left
and anxiety clearly riddled his fearful face.
He began to whimper aloud, like a bleating animal
in line to be slaughtered, as your booming base bravado
shook the white walls
and made, even me, wince in astonishment.
It was the first time that I saw your potent power,
the likes of which I dared not ever ask to be
directed toward me, the eldest of your clan
and the most subservient of us all.
I learned early on that Daddy knows everything
important to know, that Daddy rules
the rectilinear roost, that Daddy should not
be questioned, even if my childish certainty
told me otherwise.
You needed me to believe in you.
It was your right to be followed
as a censured book of law
in the judicial system of life.
Once Joel’s injured suit of armor thumped its way
out the detached double door,
your face lightened five shades of pale
and delight beamed through your bright eyes
like a small child tasting the salty sweetness
of your very first kaleidoscopic-colored candy.
It was time for me to name
the extravagant restaurant of my choice.
It was once again you and I
against the unworthy, wretched world.
My know-it-all, darling Dad and your gifted little angel,
the extension of yourself in all the best ways,
granted I kept my mouth from moving and
my words to a pleasant, flattering tone,
like the finely spun fibers of your
newly acquired, gilded carpet.
Where shall we go, my foolish father?
Direct me, for my innocent eyes are
yet short-sighted to an intelligence such as yours.
Help me get up from your stately sofa
and build me a faulty foundation on which to stand
my worthless and wanting self
so that I may be worthy of the
peripheral love that so far has eluded me.
Feb 25, 2018
Feb 25, 2018 at 2:12 PM UTC
What a joy
What a joy
My little nephew,
Two decades back
Born abroad,
When a guest here
A ride on
A piggy shoulder
Who used to enjoy,
To whom I bought
A motley toy
Out of himself
Made a brilliant boy.
“As per my choice
Could you buy me a donkey
Or a could you allow me
A tortoise
To touch
When we go to
The squalid market square
Or the nearby church?”
Double mind
Is his nick name
Now crafting
Software is his game.
A small boy
Inquisitive
He used to ask
“Tell me why
Flowers don't grow
On the sky?”
“Tell me quick
Why animals
Don't speak?
Also stars
Don't grow
On the meadow?”
“Why is the sky high
To touch?”
Such questions helped him
Racking his brain
To come up with
Academic research,
That troubleshoot
Societal challenge
And afford
A nation a turnaround
Or for the better a change!
Now, conversant in IT
It is no wonder
To observe
Binary operation,flowcharts
Subroutines,syntax...
Programming languages
Are at the tip of his finger.
His study at
George Mason University
Has turned out a hit
Getting himself
In the Dean's List.
A boy that lends
To parents, relatives
And teachers
A heeding ear
Is really dear.
Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 8:48 AM UTC
Down no plains of flowing grass
up no hills of trees that stand
what tips your hat?
where is your flaw?
disillusioned taste
defused for all, mimicked
in the voice of a flower
through hearts of trees, outstretching
complex, limbs hidden
simply facilitated
in common goal, conditioned
used for all;
how do you stand?
quite so tall
in divined obsession
it seems to find all
nurtured and withdrawn
concealed in fixation
no one finds your flaw
for there’s none at all
yet from deception, true love finds all
in this shambled; shrine,
not flawed in design
nurtured from unseen
confronted with existence.
Aug 1, 2016
Aug 1, 2016 at 3:20 AM UTC
I’m in the back seat of our car.
My parents are angry with me,
They’re upset.
I didn’t do as I was told.
I messed up,
Failed them in some way.
I don’t remember how
I guess it doesn’t matter.
I clamp my mouth shut
It feels good to do so.
A satisfying spread of pain,
It shoots through my teeth and gums.
But then
Suddenly,
My teeth giveaway.
They’re wobbling,
A crack and split of pain
Spreading through my mouth.
A tooth on the bottom row,
My tongue pushes it out,
And now I can see it on the floor.
I try and stop,
But my teeth
Mouth,
Gums
They’re all on a derailing train,
And I don’t know how to stop it.
I try and cry for help,
Let my parents know that something is wrong,
Pop
Rip
Crack
Two more fall to my feet,
A tiny pile of bones starting to gather.
My parents look back at me,
Disdain on their face.
What kind of daughter can’t control her own teeth?
Tears are spilling down my face,
Blood crawling down my chin,
I’m ruined.
Absolutely done.
Who would want a girl with no teeth?
Please let this be a dream.
Please let this be a dream.
Please let this be a dream.
I’m holding my mouth now,
Trying to keep my teeth in.
My tongue searches for full rows of teeth,
And instead finds holes.
This has to be a dream.
This has to be a dream.
If this is a dream,
Why can’t I wake up?
I am trapped in this car,
My teeth trickling out,
One by one,
Out of my mouth and on to the floor,
And finally,
The train runs straight off the cliff.
My jaw slams shut,
It was an accident,
I didn’t mean to,
Bits and pieces of broken teeth fill my mouth,
I can feel blood,
Rushing to fill the space left unfilled by teeth.
I try to cry out,
My parents,
They’ll be angry,
I’ll embarrass them if I don’t have teeth,
I have to fix this,
But my cry is a gargle.
Tooth and blood spill from my mouth when I try to speak,
Sputtering on to the back of the passenger seat in front of me.
This has to be a dream.
I’ve had this dream before,
This has to be a dream.
I can’t wake up,
I’m trapped in this car,
My own mouth betraying me.
Please let this be a dream.
Please let this be a dream.
Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 12:58 PM UTC
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─▄██▀█▌─██▄▄──▐█▀▄─▐█▀
▐█▀▀▌───▄▀▌─▌─█─▌──▌─▌
▌▀▄─▐──▀▄─▐▄─▐▄▐▄─▐▄─▐▄
**PERINATAL POETICS:
Prelude to a post-nuptial pre-partum event**
What is meant
by this prenatal parental lament?
Can the Spare-a-Dime shaft
upgrade to paradigm shift
as buzzwords replace the new jargon?
If the new synthetic empathy
is merely the same old pathetic symphony,
should we put away the flow charts when the show starts
to prevent a casual view
of the visual cue?
I fear this will only occur
when fast-breeding Other
becomes breast-feeding mother
even if her man’s fertility
is eclipsed
by human futility.
Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 5:32 PM UTC
You are angry that I didn’t tell you
That I told everybody else I knew
You said such horrible things about gays
So we have to go our separate ways.
You will go back to your church teas
And, I will go out with whomever I please.
I may end up working the streets
Or living with some stranger I meet
Because living your rules is as hard
As you’re not accepting the will of god;
Because this is who he made me.
So who has the right to degrade me?
While you gripe about me hiding from you
Examine all the hateful things you do
And the awful things you say every day
About my friends, and me who are gay.
Did you never consider from day one
That you might be talking about your son?
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 7:55 PM UTC
F
A
T
H
E
R
WHAT
D
O
E
S
THIS
WORD
MEAN?
IT MEANS
CHALLENGE
STRENGTH
C O N N E C T I O N
H
R
O
U
G
H
LOVE
BUT
NOT
LIKE
MOTHERS
LOVE
DAD
LOVE
IS
DIFFERENT
HARDER TO
SP
OT
CONTAINED
C O N T
A
G I
N I N
HARDER
LIKE
A
WALL
BUT THERE N O N E T H E L E S S
like a flowing river
THAT LEADS TO THE SEA
TO THE ANCESTORS
TO THE S O U L
OF A MAN
Sep 27, 2015
Sep 27, 2015 at 6:08 PM UTC
Dear Dad
I know you have physical disabilities,
but you are the centre of my heart,
the love of my life,
so thankful to be your son.
I am never ashamed of you,
because you are my perfect dad;
your heart is never disabled,
your love has had no divisions,
your mind is pure,
your words calm a raging foe,
and your smiles are infectious,
I will always be your son,
I love you Dad.
Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 12:43 AM UTC
If I knew now what I knew then
I would have done it all again
Again you ask?
What do i know?
I knew in time that I would grow
Grow you say. Grow into what?
That my son i have forgot.
All I know is now I'm older
I have become less bolder
I've lived life
I used to take a chance
I used to dance
I used to run free
I was blind to what I couldn't see
I used to jump high
I used to Laugh until I was forced to cry
I loved and lost
I fell asleep out in the frost.
I made mistakes.
I skinny dipped in rivers and lakes
I have no regrets
It's your time now.
I live on through you!
My son, do all the things you want to do and always stay true to you.
One day you too will know what I knew before the day I met you.
When you look back as I do, you too will understand the unconditional love that I have.
For you are a reincarnation of me.
Your dad.
Every step
Every moment
Every event
Every time you need help
Every tear drop
Every achievement
Every failure
I will always be there!
Jan 21, 2015
Jan 21, 2015 at 4:45 PM UTC