I was a child who tried running away
What is so humorous about that?
You tell the story again and again
And entertain our guests
You tell the memory as you remember it
Which is far from correct
I corrected you once
Yet you still seem to forget
my backpack I used that day
I exited the gate
And made my way down the street
I was a child
So of course I turned to see
If anyone came for me
My heart shattered
no one came for me
Nowhere to go
I sat with tears in my eyes
My mother came out
You think I would be relieved
I tried to flee
Her hands found my backpack
I was too late
I kicked and cried
Past our neighbor we went
I wonder what went through his mind..
Did he hear my cries as I went inside?
Or like my siblings
Did he not care
My mother took me to my room
A brush she held in her hand
Quite glad it wasn't the belt
Didn’t change a thing
It hurt the same
Now go ahead
Tell that to our guests
I was a child who tried runny away
What is so humorous about that?
-Phoenix
-
Author:
ThePhoenix (
Offline) - Published: November 17th, 2021 22:44
- Comment from author about the poem: My father likes to tell his side of stories to our guests and I thought it would be time to share my side.
- Category: Family
- Views: 14
- Users favorite of this poem: L. B. Mek
Offline)
Comments1
What an exemplary utilisation of Poetry's ability for sharing and unloading our frustrations and
would-be, Silenced opinions!
keep voicing your Truth
while mapping your path, to acceptance and growth
knowing, the things that happen to you
won't be the factors: that Define
You!
(thanks for sharing, keep that mighty Pen
aspiring, curating - the future
you want to make for yourself.
Not in terms of success
more, in terms of sculpting
and owning
your sense: of Self!)
Thank you! Telling my truth means the world to me. I'll most definitely treasure your feedback.
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