Breanna Choma Poems
|81.||Holding Onto Sixteen||2/7/2015|
|82.||Dying People Smile Too||3/4/2015|
|84.||Dear 12 Year Old Preteen||3/3/2015|
|88.||Because Of Drugs||5/14/2015|
|89.||It Wasn'T Suppose To Be Like This||2/23/2015|
|90.||As You Once Were||8/24/2015|
|91.||Where Must I Stand||2/23/2015|
|93.||I Am An Individual||2/8/2015|
We are told what a woman should be, and in an instant it becomes a childhood dream.
I was told about beauty before I learned my body had a brain, and I became obsessed with becoming the teenage girls on TV.
In the 2nd grade I remember going to school and being put down because you couldn't see my bones, and my face was too round.
Every year they told me I was ugly so in grade 5 I wore makeup and fancy clothing hoping they couldn't see through me.
They called me a slut so in grade 6 I dressed in guys clothing.
They called me a fat lesbian bitch while I was ...
Row By Row
Day by day, crosses and graves stones lay..
Row by row we all gather..
When they go we get sad then grow sadder...
When they all fall we no longer stand tall...
Why did I stay?
That should have been me, don't you see?
I might as well be a flea..
He was loved, he was a hero, some one who could never be a zero...
With each gun fire his honor seemed higher..