"grabber" poems - Hello Poetry

A LIFE TORN APART When I first peeped into the world, I deemed it fit for the growth of my miniature. When I peeped again, I trembled with disbelieving eyes at the emergent live labyrinth that stood staring; but then, can an opinion change an existence? Maybe, just maybe As our mother packed and left, our father drove away. We remained hidden in desolate souls. We were striked with a giant of a being called sustenance, which dwelt in providence. Sincerely our begetters ought to have thought of our brilliant futures. We deserved a life, to run the race towards academic heights Just the other day I overheard, my hemophilic father tying the famous knot with a fellow MAN. Then I thought, what would become of my ego? Would I walk with MY head held high facing other heterosexually raised colleagues? Would I even get the strength to chase after the big price? I think not As I grew up, I hoped for an illuminated course. Now I walk in converging paths. After my fore-bearers kicked their ***** apart, I sobbed after my dressed mother, they say. But who could have thought that I would turn into a walking stone? Walking through streets in search of well-wishers, I wished my parents had held onto their existence. She blamed it on lewdness while he held it all upon the mistake of an early pregnancy. Was I born unwanted? Was I smuggled into this existence? I cease to think about it. As a student, I thought my father’s charm the way to go. As a child, my mother’s “generosity” to male neighbors elated me. Now as a parent to be I think, what would my apprehended seed think of my responsibilities? Will I be faced by delinquency? I thought the rod could do a lot to effect change. It never did on me. Maybe I ought to mind the examples that I was given not. With my Progenitor bidden by the feared misfortune, I still sink in the memories of my father, taken away by the same old grabber, HIV/AIDS. How I hate you HIV….I beseech thee to move away from me. I promise my dear life; that I will always run against the traffic. I will ensure I entangle myself not, in a creased heart and walk with head held high. With the hope of giving my bairm, the kind of life that I always wanted

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Jun 29, 2014

Jun 29, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC

mimisa-dickens

A LIFE TORN APART

A LIFE TORN APART When I first peeped into the world, I deemed it fit for the growth of my miniature. When I peeped again, I trembled with disbelieving eyes at the emergent live labyrinth that stood staring; but then, can an opinion change an existence? Maybe, just maybe As our mother packed and left, our father drove away. We remained hidden in desolate souls. We were striked with a giant of a being called sustenance, which dwelt in providence. Sincerely our begetters ought to have thought of our brilliant futures. We deserved a life, to run the race towards academic heights Just the other day I overheard, my hemophilic father tying the famous knot with a fellow MAN. Then I thought, what would become of my ego? Would I walk with MY head held high facing other heterosexually raised colleagues? Would I even get the strength to chase after the big price? I think not As I grew up, I hoped for an illuminated course. Now I walk in converging paths. After my fore-bearers kicked their ***** apart, I sobbed after my dressed mother, they say. But who could have thought that I would turn into a walking stone? Walking through streets in search of well-wishers, I wished my parents had held onto their existence. She blamed it on lewdness while he held it all upon the mistake of an early pregnancy. Was I born unwanted? Was I smuggled into this existence? I cease to think about it. As a student, I thought my father’s charm the way to go. As a child, my mother’s “generosity” to male neighbors elated me. Now as a parent to be I think, what would my apprehended seed think of my responsibilities? Will I be faced by delinquency? I thought the rod could do a lot to effect change. It never did on me. Maybe I ought to mind the examples that I was given not. With my Progenitor bidden by the feared misfortune, I still sink in the memories of my father, taken away by the same old grabber, HIV/AIDS. How I hate you HIV….I beseech thee to move away from me. I promise my dear life; that I will always run against the traffic. I will ensure I entangle myself not, in a creased heart and walk with head held high. With the hope of giving my bairm, the kind of life that I always wanted