17

Isabel Chelisia Villa

Remind me again, of where I came from. Not from money, not from fame, nor greed.

Show me who my parents are.

One too high to care for her own children.

the other?

Well apparently, he is perfectly fine with knowing his oldest daughter is in a foster care placement.

Knowing she cries almost every night. Hoping and Praying, that he would care for her. But no, he would 

rather "love" someone who has torn his family limb from limb, with lies, hate, manipulation, and her chemically altered mind. 

How much pain can one person endure? 

Till that person wants and wishes to be six feet below the ground?

Till that young girlis so confused about who she is, that everyday there is a constant storm brewing in her brain....but now she is 17 she uses the storm as her weapon of war.

  • Author: Isabel Chelisia Villa (Offline Offline)
  • Published: October 13th, 2017 11:29
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 14
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments2

  • Tony36

    Well written and expressed

  • Isabel Chelisia Villa

    thank you so much tony36, poetry is where I can go to think about my feelings and able to figure them out



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