Who cares that I went through that stage.
Who cares that I was stubborn.
I was the child.
I didn’t know any better.
Learn how to do your job.
Learn how to love and not hate.
I don’t respect you.
I don’t love you.
All these emotions you see me expressing is fear.
You are completely oblivious.
Or you do know and don’t want to make things right.
You, the adult came into my room and knocked over the book shelf.
You came into my room and took my bed apart to through it across the room.
The irreplaceable lamp shuddered against the wall.
The camera full of memories was no more after you.
Yes, I started doing my homework.
But the rest of my time in school my heart was racing.
My eyes were tired.
Some people say “It’s a wonder you didn’t have a heart attack at the age of ten.”
How does that make you feel knowing you did that to a child?
February 25,2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem