my childhood
what it could have been
what i felt it should have been
what was it?
stressful?
tear filled eyes?
blackouts?
overwhelming scent of despair
a touch of inflicted pain, no i say, its just a reminder
the horrifying sound of faint breathing
all I hear is the sound of myself singing to an audience of one
I optimistically think 3, me myself and I
raised by a strong headed bronx attitude
blurred vision, blurred thoughts, every day a day after foggy brain
an angel,
fallen?
what was it again that lead to the fall of lucifer?
was he not Gods greatest angel
my breath is like every other
it taste like how I act
but its hard to notice when others are more barbaric than my own
things go unnoticed
walking in on a nodding off shame once again
only to see how hopeless expecting something other than what this annoyance of a life can be
But I step back and think.
maybe I didn't have a bad childhood
perhaps I loved it, perhaps I embraced every memory
and reject that its over and has ended
the illusion of innocence that I never had is gone
maybe, just maybe
I'm just resentful that it ended too soon
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem