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Fist Bump With An Angel - Poem by Matthew Bresette
There was once an elderly man who used to recall his troubles of his childhood of when he was younger. A life full of the difficulties of life a person must face one time or another. As time goes by, this man forgets the life he once lived and he can’t keep but wandering, where has his life gone. He can’t recall where it has gone and how he had lived his life. There is one memory that he seemed to stick up beyond all of the others, it’s when he was walking home from a hard day in school.
Everyone was picking at him, making fun of him, calling him names, etc… like they usually do at school so that they can have their entertainment. So, he’s just taking it all as calmly as he can and he doesn’t do anything to stop them or hinder them in any way. He lets them do what they do best while he does what he does best; ignore them.
Once school is out, I shoot out before anybody else and by the time the last student goes by the front door, I’m almost out of sight—where no one can see that there is tiny droplets coming from my own eyes. Their words that they have kept on drilling into me from the very first day of school have finally gotten to me and I can’t help, but have tears cascading down my face.
Fifteen minutes later, the tears were finally starting to stop, finally getting a hold of myself, when all of a sudden, I look around and see that it’s getting dark and I’m nowhere near where my home is. I’ve never seen those houses that line the street every which way. Left, right, straight, go back the way I came—which way is the way back home?
I couldn’t answer—I still can’t, not even sixty years later. All I knew at the time was for me to climb the tallest building and so I did and that is where my mother was, only that couldn’t be right, she had died a few years before giving birth to my little sister.
“Momma, is that really you? ” I asked worriedly.
“Yes, honey, it’s really your ma. I’ve come to take you back home with me.”
“But why are you here? I like it here.”
“I know, that’s why I’m here.”
“If you know that I like it here then, why did you come? ”
“I came because it would get no better than what it was today for you. Today was the best day you’ll ever have after today even though all of those kids make you be their entertainment. After today, they will be even worse to you. You see, those two boys who pick on you, have had a difficult time growing up. They don’t have a momma and a daddy that care about them like your daddy does. Your daddy is worried sick about you and about to call in the cops to search for you, just thought I tell you. Their momma’s a drug addict and don’t know much about anything anymore nowadays let alone raising two young bright little boys who are just beginning to grow up. Their daddy ain’t much better than the momma, he’s an abusive man who drinks, swears and who knows what else to his wife and those two little boys. The momma copes with being a drug addict and those two little boys; they cope by picking on you. To them, they are being kind to you—toughening you up so you can deal with life’s troubles later on. They are doing you a favor; you know—don’t ever forget that, that is of course, if you live past tonight. Tonight will be a night to remember, I can guarantee you that. Tonight, Ronald, the little boy’s dad, will go a little bit too far tonight because he’s really mad because some kind gentlemen told him, God bless you and you know how he gets when people talk religion to him. That gentleman is alright, a little bit shook up, but he’ll live unlike the little boy’s mom. It’ll happen in about ten minutes from now. I’ve made sure that Rosalie, the boy’s momma, is all duped up to where she can barely feel anything, lucky for her. You can’t stop it, so don’t even try. It’s been too long coming and you can do nothing about it so don’t even try.”
“I’ll try not too momma, ” I say with a little bit of truth mixed into it, just a little.
“Good, didn’t expect anything less from you. Ronald’s on his way home now, mad as ever, and waiting to vent some of that pent-up anger on his wife. You can almost see steam coming right out of his ears as he walks down the moonless streets. The little boys are home watching a little TV making fun of each other, just like they usually do, and their momma is in the bedroom, doing like she’s usually does, getting high and having no care in the world especially not her two little boys who are in the next room smelling all of that smoke that’s coming from that door. The dad’s almost there, a few more minutes.
“Can I do something to help, something to prevent what’s going to happen.”
“No, I told you, you can’t stop it.”
“Where do they live, ” I asked curiously
“Up the street to the left, first house on the right”
And so, I ran. I ran away from my momma’s ghost to help the momma of those two boys who picked at me at school every single day of the school year. Only, when I got to where their house was, it was already too late. There was an ambulance right outside their house with those two boys and their daddy being led with handcuffs around his wrists to a police car with child services leading the two boys to another car taking them to an orphanage near the school where they stayed until after graduation. I never saw those two boys again.
I stayed for a few minutes then went back to where my momma was waiting for me on that roof top sitting on that table waiting for me to come back.
“I told you couldn’t do anything to help. So why did you leave after I told you no.”
“I…I…well, I j-just w-w-wanted to help their m-m-momma, if I could.” I said nervously.
“So kind, but a little wasted effort on your part.” she said a little angrily.”
“I’m sorry, momma. I’ll try not to do it again.”
“I know sweetheart, that’s why I love ya.”
“What happened to her momma? What happened to Rosalie? ”
“Well…she died after her husband hit her one too many times to the head. Ronald made the little boys watch their daddy beat their mommy up and watch her scream. They will never be the same. But, listen to what I’ve got to tell you, they will take what happened tonight on you. They will make you bear their pain instead of them. You see, by picking on you, they are dealing with what they are dealing with. They are trying to escape from what they’ve seen and what they’ve heard. It’ll only get worse from now on. You still sure you want to continue to live on and be picked on by those two little boys.”
“Yes, I’m pretty sure I do. All year, I’ve always thought that they were bullies and didn’t know what happened at home, but now I do and I will gladly accept them picking on me at school. I’d rather secretly try to help them deal with what happened tonight.”
“So you don’t want to come back with me tonight after all you’re going to have to go through with the rest of your life. Don’t you want to come back with me tonight while you’re still young instead of being old and wrinkly and don’t know anything besides tonight? ”
“Of course, I want to come back with you—someday, but tonight, is not my night. Someone already died tonight, let’s not make it even number with my own death.” And with that, I slowly got up from the table and slowly walked away from my only mom. But when I got to the door, I turned around.
“I love you”
“I know, love you too”
“How do I get home? ”
And when I walked back to where I was, she put out her fist and said, “Put her there, ” and held out her fist and I when I touched my fist with hers, I was outside my door with dad outside the porch waiting for me to come home.
He hadn’t seen me yet and when I was about to walk, I turned around again,
“I’m sorry for what dad did to you.”
“It’s okay, I’m over it now and it’s about time you did the same.”
“Okay, I’ll try and Mom, will I ever see you again”
“Soon, very soon, I’ll come back when you you’re ready to come with me.”
The next day, those two little boys were at school and they were the meanest they ever were that year to me, only this time, I knew the reason why they were doing it and I gladly accepted what they did to me without complaint and while they were doing what they did best, I held my head held high, with a smile on my face and no matter what they did, they couldn’t wipe it from my face. After awhile, they finally asked me why I was smiling. I told them that I’ve forgiven you and walked off. They never picked on me since. What my mom said that night, changed my outlook on how I looked when people picked on me and when she did that, she gave me what I needed to change and accept what they were doing and in their view, they were teaching me to toughen up and they did. I only don’t know how much they did and not even sixty years later.
“Who’s that walking up my driveway, ” I mumbled unconsciously and the next time I blinked, my mom had returned to come take me with her.
“Are you ready? ”
“I think I am, but let me look around first.”
Okay, take your time; I’ve got all the time in the world
“I don’t, ” I mumbled under my breath and began looking around. After a few minutes of looking around, “Okay, I’m ready.”
“Come here, ” and put out her fist, “Put here there.”
“Good-bye, ” and touched her fist with mine and I went home with her for the very last time and once I did, I saw Rosalie and I put my fist out, “Put her there, ” I exclaimed with happiness on seeing her well and knew that I was going to be well too with my mom and Rosalie by my side.
Comments about Fist Bump With An Angel by Matthew Bresette
Poems About Home
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- 2. The Wrong Way Home. , Christian K. Montiel
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- 8. I M Coming Home(Inequity Confession) , donald kuutsi
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- 15. Out Reach , Angela Yarbrough
- 16. Baby Come Home , Lance Carthen
- 17. The Pauper Labourer , Josias Homely
- 18. Home My Happiness , MAREME PETER KGWETE
- 19. Lost And Found , Julia Ann Moore
- 20. Come Home Son, Supper's Ready , George Wootton
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- 30. Home. , Hunter James
- 31. Murder Is A Colorful Thing , Tamara Buengener
- 32. Home , kemi moshood
- 33. Far Away , Max D. Hornbogen
- 34. Two Years Today... For Angel Jk , Shaakiera Schroeder
- 35. Blue Home , Arta Krasniqi
- 36. Aint Comin' Home Tonite , Wacey Smith
- 37. Homeward Bound , George Edward Woodberry
- 38. A Louse Is Not A Home , Peter Hammill
- 39. The Violin , Silas Weir Mitchell
- 40. Infancy To Clarency; Womb To Tomb , rhiannon fisher
- 41. Home , Alfred Barna
- 42. The Long Way Home , MONCIANA EDMONDSON
- 43. Home , Fannie Stearns Davis
- 44. My Home , Caitlin Moreby
- 45. The Rhyme Of The Rio Grande , Cicely Fox Smith
- 46. The Hero's Heart , Nebe Albert
- 47. Twin Towers , Marc Hurkmans
- 48. Life In Paradise: 21st Century Style , Nancy Chambers
- 49. Heaven , Tumelo Makhudu
- 50. The Long Road Home , Cicely Fox Smith
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