Treasure Island

Cynthia BuhainBaello

(November 17,1949 / Manila, Philippines)

For Anna


Anna never had a chances
She was rejected as a child.
Messed up parents wrapped in Religion
Never cared about her condition

At two she saw hatred and abuse
Ugly conflicts she could not refuse
Father and mother fought and raged
In domestic scenes they always engaged.

As a teen she was lovely and attractive
But her person in lost values were captive
She worked in a bar and had lots of money
Then she fell into drug dealing, eventually.

Anna met the actor's son who played the dice
Supplied the drugs for her merchandise
She must have crossed him in some devious way
She was murdered by drugs that took her life away.

Anna was my cousin and I longed for those days
When we were young children, and I watched her play
As a two-year old toddler who will never know why
She was bound for such a misery, and later on to die.

Submitted: Wednesday, March 07, 2012
Edited: Tuesday, February 18, 2014

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (For Anna by Cynthia BuhainBaello )

Enter the verification code :

There is no comment submitted by members..

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. Invictus
    William Ernest Henley

PoemHunter.com Updates

New Poems

  1. A Thousand Words, William Daryl Hine
  2. Of some kind, hasmukh amathalal
  3. Partridge, Nassy Fesharaki
  4. The problem, hasmukh amathalal
  5. Oneiron, Xianah Park
  6. Vox Pop of the triumphalist Nigger Slayer, Stanley Collymore
  7. No Love, Bill Cantrell
  8. A Map of The World, B.. Alexander
  9. A Streetcar named De$ire, John F. McCullagh
  10. Here, in India, you are, see., gajanan mishra

Poem of the Day

poet Henry David Thoreau

My books I'd fain cast off, I cannot read,
'Twixt every page my thoughts go stray at large
Down in the meadow, where is richer feed,
And will not mind to hit their proper targe.
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]