prisonerA Poem by I am renee
I was too young to know what was going on
"I was four and I developed type one diabetes" I was too young to know the world burning at my feet to the tip of my toes " my sister was only eleven when I watched my dad rape her" I saw the fear in her eyes And my dad ended up going to prison "I would ask my mom where is he or when he was going to come home" She would give me stories "he's at work or he's working late" It was bullshit I was in the room with my brother as I heard the door bell ring "my aunt looked at me and was balling tears" I was only four, I didn't know what was going on "would you like to see your dad?" she said Of course I wanted to see him so she took me to where he was hiding (before he went to prison) After that day I never saw him again "nothing was clear" It wasn't until may 13th when my mom took me to go see him in prison I wasn't to sure what was happening I sat down and watched as they released the prisoners "I saw my dad and we talked" He cried and said he missed me As I put my hand on the glass he did the same "I felt the warmth from the guilt he felt" As my mom and I were leaving she finally broke down and told me what happened since I was nine I was shocked and the only reason why I was shocked is because I remember my dad telling me "happy birthday, I love you more than the sand, moon and stars" Now I'm 17 and sometimes I can act like an a*****e but I love people "I tend not to judge others because they all have their own stories" I am strong and I am me And I know In the future when I have kids I'll always be there for them and I'll even take a bullet for my wife and children What my dad did to my sister was unbearable but it made me who I am today "someone you can talk to and trust" A friend "raise your words,not your voice...we all don't have the same story so why judge when we all have different shoe sizes" © 2014 I am renee |
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Added on August 3, 2014 Last Updated on August 3, 2014 AuthorI am reneeVAAbouti love writing for the enjoyment. im black and white, and i only write about things that come to mind. ive already written a book call the rhythm of poetry. more..Writing
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