Mommy's Little Boy

I mixed matched stanza forms on purpose. I wrote this poem for my sister, because she constantly called me "mommy's little boy".

Slump-trash, in the back of an alley,

I could give it all

In just a few moments

 

Pick your pockets,

Write a check (owe me later),

But hurry, anything will do

 

Mommy’s little boy,

Oh! You rubbed that one

In my face

 

But when was the last time

You cared about

Mommy’s little boy

 

Growing up,

You only hugged me twice,

 

When Mommy’s boyfriend

Threatened to kick you

Out of the house 

 

 

(Threatened at the chance to never see you, oh joy!)

And the second time

Was when grandpa died

 

But only for a few seconds,

You held me,

Mommy’s little boy

 

Besides that,

I cannot remember you

Ever being there

 

Just like our father

Or our brother,

Innocent and dumb (left me at seven)

 

Who do you think you are?

Mocking me,

Mommy’s little boy

 

When I have been

The only one

Holding Mommy’s hand 

 

Every night

While Mommy held her face

In her hands, crying

 

Because her boyfriend

Would not stop hurting her

And made her want to hurt herself

 

Mommy’s little boy

Oh! You rubbed that one

In my face

 

Who do you think you are?

To call me

Such a name

 

When you or our brother

Were never around

To protect me from Mommy’s boyfriend or anyone else

 

Slump-trash,

Yes, I was kicked around

 

Mommy’s little boy, maybe not

Daddy’s little boy, definitely not

Her boyfriend’s little boy, hypothetically I guess

Nobody’s boy, definitely yes

 

 

Oh! I am slump-trash

Kicked around,

Write me a check,

 

And I will let you

Throw me around,

 

Because,

Oh! I am

Mommy’s little boy

 

Thanks to you,

Never there, or you

Or you!

 

I could give it all

I just a moment

For just a bit of love

 

 

Slump-trash, b*****d

Is what I am (Mommy’s little boy)

And it is nice to me you (what a w***e!)

Reviews

[Bubo]

Such a sad piece...........and I expect very well said, having been someone who has been there for a parent while the other siblings spring hurtful words and don't help.......very moving with a great flow.

Sometimes we cannot choose family, but we know inside we are good and have done the right thing in circumstances not of our choice.

Mommy’s little boy, maybe not

Daddy’s little boy, definitely not

Her boyfriend’s little boy, hypothetically I guess

Nobody’s boy, definitely yes

[Rose Tyler]

Excellent flow and powerful.
I haven't quite read a poem like this before, about abuse. This makes you think about all that goes on uot in the world to little children and adults alike.

My only question, though: In the last line, "And it is nice to me you (what a w***e!)" is it supposed to be "nice to meet you" and was just a typing error or was that there on purpose?

All in all, good job, keep it up!