Dying - Poem by Shannon Monroe
Once I was a little girl wondering about the world, about life and what was in store for me when I was to go to my friend’s house.
But not ling after I turned five, all that changed. I had to leave my childhood behind and grow up. Dying, dying, dying.
I had to become stronger more reliable on myself and nobody to put me down. Dying, dying, dying.
Now that I am a teenager, I look back on my childhood, and see a parentless child, hurting and calling for help. But no one can help her and this little girl didn’t know why nobody would help her; Siblings all in different homes, all alone in the world.
Thrown out into the wilderness, where the lions, tigers and bears and coyotes could gang up onto her and beat her up and the eat her. Dying, slowly as their venomous teeth dig into her fragile flesh. Dying, dying, dying.
Comments about Dying by Shannon Monroe
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye