The following is a true story.
Junior no less.
Down the road, down the hill,
And alongside a wall across from J. General Hospital.
Where years earlier,
Mom was confined,
Due to her alleged-
Breakdown. Dad's affair.
I was 14, looking upward,
At forlorn mother figure
In upper tiny window.
I lost my mom for over a year to electroshock and meds.
The tears rushed to my eyes,
The book suitcase dropped,
From my hand. I sagged against the wall-
Overcome, overwhelmed and crushed.
I felt as a big
Nothing, counting for nought.
I have little to live for, give to.
Bullied, put down by parents and school.
Why go on, go on to school?
For the same old lousy sh*t.
A life Wasted, I thought.
I quietly cried out--
To God, barely believed in. I want to give up.
As I went with these morose morbid thoughts,
Words came to me,
"Late bloomer". "You will Blossom later, just not now".
Nobody there, not a person.
Astonishment adorned my crushed mind.
"It will get better. Hang in there. Keep going"
"Lets get to school" the final message drifted from afar.
A draught of glorious energetic
Joy Swept over me.
Someone had spoken,
Someone does care.
Almighty it must have been,
Only explanation I could give.
I arose from the spot
Grabbed my suitcase.
And lightly strode onward
To High School only slightly late.
Onward I was buoyed up to bear the future trials
Of my troubled life.
Not long after that pregnant harbinged Day,
I joined the Junior Class Play!
So on Earth I decided to stay,
After that indelible and most eventful Day.
Poetry by Stephen Jay
Read 838 times
Written on 2011-10-16 at 22:41
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The Wall
Onward to School,Junior no less.
Down the road, down the hill,
And alongside a wall across from J. General Hospital.
Where years earlier,
Mom was confined,
Due to her alleged-
Breakdown. Dad's affair.
I was 14, looking upward,
At forlorn mother figure
In upper tiny window.
I lost my mom for over a year to electroshock and meds.
The tears rushed to my eyes,
The book suitcase dropped,
From my hand. I sagged against the wall-
Overcome, overwhelmed and crushed.
I felt as a big
Nothing, counting for nought.
I have little to live for, give to.
Bullied, put down by parents and school.
Why go on, go on to school?
For the same old lousy sh*t.
A life Wasted, I thought.
I quietly cried out--
To God, barely believed in. I want to give up.
As I went with these morose morbid thoughts,
Words came to me,
"Late bloomer". "You will Blossom later, just not now".
Nobody there, not a person.
Astonishment adorned my crushed mind.
"It will get better. Hang in there. Keep going"
"Lets get to school" the final message drifted from afar.
A draught of glorious energetic
Joy Swept over me.
Someone had spoken,
Someone does care.
Almighty it must have been,
Only explanation I could give.
I arose from the spot
Grabbed my suitcase.
And lightly strode onward
To High School only slightly late.
Onward I was buoyed up to bear the future trials
Of my troubled life.
Not long after that pregnant harbinged Day,
I joined the Junior Class Play!
So on Earth I decided to stay,
After that indelible and most eventful Day.
Poetry by Stephen Jay
Read 838 times
Written on 2011-10-16 at 22:41
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
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