The Creation Of The Storm Read Count : 2

Category : Poems

Sub Category : N/A

I do not blame my mother

She knew what she did

I do not blame my father

He knows just what he's done. 

The blame I place upon me

For i am the sour one

I see no good in mankind when the hour is none

My pain is my own to bear

Even if I choose the numb

For its me alone who must know myself 

With my heart upon the wicker shelf

Bleeding into the void

The blame is not for those that did it

That's beyond the point. 

The blame is for the one that excuses it

Still trying to play the game

For i know deep in my loin it is truly in vain. 

I do not exist to please you.

Not do I consent. 

To be prodded judged and broken, and looked at with contempt. 

I ask not for opinion

Not anything at all

For i am not your minion at your beck and call. 

You do not get to break me

And walk away from it all. 

For i have been your whipping boy it's written on the wall. 

I may have let it happen

Complicit in my fall

No longer I will stand here and gawk at your gall. 

I am my own person

I've built in the destruction 

Maybe you will learn some

From my defiance in your gumption. 

I am not your little martyr and today I stand up; I'm done

There is only this one last point of import

The last bit to report

You will never speak use my tongue, when I speak about my son.

Comments

  • Maurice  Beres

    Maurice Beres

    A gem

    Apr 28, 2019

  • Vandry Hallway

    Vandry Hallway

    :) :) :) your comments always make my day!

    Apr 28, 2019

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