I've grown up in Detroit, Michigan since I was 4 years old. I am a foster child, and I was sexually abused in my first foster home. I have one real sister that I know of... I don't know her on a personal level, but I know that her name is Mykia. My foster mother's name is Sandy, my father is Joe, and my foster brothers names are: Tyler, Mich, Austin, Stephen, Charley, and Devin. My sisters are: ... more »
Click here to add this poet to your My Favorite Poets.
Sami Woodall Poems
She's left all alone, lost in the dark, noone can help her, she's falling apart.
Girl was born, girl was abandoned, girl was raped, and left emptyhanded.
I Miss You
I miss the smile, upon your face, I miss your spirit, full of grace.
The scars remind me, that the past is real, the scars remind me, to have no fear.
Love is the slowest form of sucide
Love is the slowest form of sucide, that I know, love is the pain, that will never go.
You got me, on my hands and knees, you got me begging, please... No please! ?
The wrong Kind of Love
I remember, when he was drunk, he would hold me down, he would go inside of me, and warn me not to tell.
she came from heaven, no doubt in my mind, she is my protecter, she's there all the time.
Everything I've ever known in life is gone... Gone is the smile, I wore on my face,
Don't Judge Me
People call me freaky, due to all the black, and when they talk shit, they better stay back.
Tired of living in fear
I'm tired of hiding in the shadows, hiding myself away, I'm tired of living in fear, that you will go astray.
Tyler 1990-2005 (not the Tyler in my fam...
I knew a kid from foster care, whose name was Tyler, he had lots of troubles, he became a fighter.
Why don't you like me? Why don't you love me? Is it because I'm getting fat? Is it because you think I'm ugly?
My Baby Girl
I want this baby, oh so deeply, but how can I take care of her, how can I keep it?
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
She's left all alone,
lost in the dark,
noone can help her,
she's falling apart.
Lost is her voice,
she cannot sing,
lost is her sight,
she cannot see.
Lost is the fire,
in her eyes,
lost is her conscience,
that made her do right.
Lost is her soul,
that controlled her life,
lost is her heart,
and her beautiful life.
Lost is everything,
that made her up,
lost is everything,
even her cuts.