This IS a poem but it sounds more like a story.
When I was four my mom left us to struggle,
She went to get a pack of smokes and never returned,
Well actually she did a few years after all of this,
Then when I was a little older I found out,
About a little thing they call work,
I washed the dishes and mopped the floor,
And guess who cooked at the age of seven,
Well I will be damned I was slaving over that stove,
Then mom came and took us away to Texas,
I remember the cops pulling me off my fathers leg,
I was crying and screaming to stay,
I know my father hated it but he couldn't change the order,
Three months later after being stabbed and beaten,
The courts granted my father custody of us kids,
And my father pulled a knife on that bastard,
My mom had married because he beat us and stabbed me,
And he didn't even get in trouble but anyway,
We were struggling to get by when the call came in,
I was thirteen and the cops had they eyes on me,
I had broke an entering that wasn't mine,
That passed after a year and a half,
And I will be damned if right after that,
The call came in about my dad,
So we moved and my world is upside down,
Lord let me move back to my old home place PLEASE.
Poetry by Justin
Read 551 times
Written on 2006-02-25 at 03:55
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My Life
Boys and girls want to hear about my life?When I was four my mom left us to struggle,
She went to get a pack of smokes and never returned,
Well actually she did a few years after all of this,
Then when I was a little older I found out,
About a little thing they call work,
I washed the dishes and mopped the floor,
And guess who cooked at the age of seven,
Well I will be damned I was slaving over that stove,
Then mom came and took us away to Texas,
I remember the cops pulling me off my fathers leg,
I was crying and screaming to stay,
I know my father hated it but he couldn't change the order,
Three months later after being stabbed and beaten,
The courts granted my father custody of us kids,
And my father pulled a knife on that bastard,
My mom had married because he beat us and stabbed me,
And he didn't even get in trouble but anyway,
We were struggling to get by when the call came in,
I was thirteen and the cops had they eyes on me,
I had broke an entering that wasn't mine,
That passed after a year and a half,
And I will be damned if right after that,
The call came in about my dad,
So we moved and my world is upside down,
Lord let me move back to my old home place PLEASE.
Poetry by Justin
Read 551 times
Written on 2006-02-25 at 03:55
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
