My Life

Its Raskolnikov

I was born in the midst of a father's fist,

He beat my mother and my brother,

Luckily my memory casts those days away,

My sister had so much pain, love, and hate thrown her way,

We left only so to ten years later have him come back and say,

"I hope there's no bad blood,

No left over pain,

I hope it can all be okay,

And I want to be a father again",

He had his chance,

These scars are ugly,

They won't just fade away no matter what he pays,

I only agreed to this for my brother anyway,

 

And it was only two Christmases after the split,

That I was hit,

My grandma went away,

To be right back, or so they did say,

They pulled her out of the house as we play with our Legos and toys,

They said she'd be easy to save,

Now she's in the grave,

I remember the day I thought there would be no more joys,

 

And my father to be,

Since I was two, he was with me,

 

My family and I left for the land of the volunteers,

One year of hard times and trouble,

Dollar store holidays,

Objectively, my future would seem blown to rubble,

No money in my life,

Just family,

Friends,

And my very own self-made trends,

And there was no strife,

It was the perfect animation of how happy could be a poor man's life,

 

 

Then, away we went to the Sunshine State,

My father had everything going okay,

For another four annus we got to stay,

I was free to wonder,

But I never did appreciate that freedom back in the day,

 

 

Back to the woods for another twelve months-stint,

Then we moved to Seattle,

A place where I'd finally take a hint,

I'd start to change,

I started to grow wiser,

I admit I have a while to go,

But I think you'll agree,

I've become a lot smarter,stronger, and nicer,

Just look at me,

This isn't where they thought I'd be,

 

 

Now I'm at the top,

I'm doing everything,

I'm here and laughing,

I'm marching with pride,

My education is taking quite the stride,

And my schedule's never been fuller,

But the grief, sometimes I can't hide,

 

 

I feel I've taken the Via Dolorosa to love,

I'm in line to ask her out,

It's so crowded here, please don't shove,

Please don't shout,

I sink when she cries,

I know I'm not the one she wants,

But my mind makes me fantasize,

I wish she held my hand,

I wish she'd kiss my cheek,

That's how I want it to end,

Not in a hospital,

But in her embrace,

She is grace,

I'm sorry, Sara, but I have to have something to chase,

I still have to hope there is love,

I still have to think that's the case,

 

There it is,

My life story,

Not full though, for I can't tell you how much I've missed,

And there's still another stanza to write in front of me,

Though only I can see,

But so can you, 

If you come with me,

  • Author: Raskolnikov (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 22nd, 2017 22:44
  • Comment from author about the poem: Not sure how good this is but, oh well. Tell me what you think.
  • Category: Reflection
  • Views: 16
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments2

  • FredPeyer

    Very well written Ras, you certainly had your ups and downs!
    And we will see what that promised stanza will bring!

    • Its Raskolnikov

      Thank you much! I appreciate all of your support!

    • T...

      Amazing work, this was beautifully written.

      • Its Raskolnikov

        Thank you, I'm glad you liked it



      To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.