My Real Home Poem by Tiffany Rose Moczydlowski

My Real Home

Rating: 5.0


I love how
My mom doesn't
Have money for food,
But the fridge is full
Of wine coolers.
I love how
I can go wherever
I want
Because my mom
Doesn't care
Where I go.
I love how
My dad
Used to get me
Beat up
Because it was ''funny.''
I love how
My dad
Used me to get to
My mom.
I love how
I sit there comforting
My little sister
After she tries
To beat me up.
I love how
I'm afraid to go home
In case I set someone
Off.
I love how
I prefer to go to
Christian's house because
They actually care
If I get hurt.
I love how
He's the only one
Who tries to help.
Who sticks up for me.
Who gets me to the
Hospital.
I love how
He sees through
The fake smile.
I love how
He's the only one
Who loves me enough
To try
To fix me.

POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Looking at a comment, I see concern for me.... To make things clearer, this is a fictional set of circumstances. I was using this poem to prove a point. In no way is this poem a reflection of my life, except for a name used. The speaker is NOT me. Sorry for the confusion!
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Corrina Kavea 30 June 2012

I love how you wrote this.. well done

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