No way around

No way around

A Poem by ANNA


I had no headphone around my ears 
To separate the flow of shattering dreams
That spilled from the little boy mirror
As his mother walked through his tears 
Forgetting to pack his lunchbox
Losing ground, his memory snapped 
She’s no longer coming back
Mommy has a new boyfriend
 
Left a boney child that had no money in a money hungry world 
He was left beat up by the perfection that labeled him as “low class trash”
Worthless tears milked this little boy face from the fact that he didn’t asked 
To be brought up by a druggy for a mother and a run away pedophile for a father 
Left to pray for a life that wasn’t shape or shipped out as s**t
Did Jesus see the malfunction in his creation and decided to take a vacation?
Success looked to be pretty slim for him when his shelter became his best friend
A homeless child became a whisper in the New York winds   
Suicide looked to be the closes thing to happiness, who would miss him anyways?
He was yet to define life worth when life kept on judging the best part of him 
Filth walked with a limp at his bedside reminding him of the price he has to pay  
 
I had no voice around my open microphone  
To separate him from “I’m no better from the rest” title 
That fogged across the little boy mirror
As his mother walked through his tears 
Forgetting to mute his sighs  
Losing ground, the chair crumbled, his neck snapped 
She's no longer stepping on his grave 
Mommy has a new maiden name
 
Are you left to wander into his shelter? 
Begging for the safety of his tears to be place in God golden waters
Human's shouldn’t be called human for they spit judgments on Gods love 
Life of a homeless boy killings him self and the 4 clock news eats it up
A druggy for a mother and a run away pedophile for a father
 
I had no strength left after he pledge to suffocate himself 
I wish I could form a blanket to heal his shattering faith but it’s too late
My anger spilled from the little boy in mirror
As he kicked lose his mother tears
Forgave Jesus of his sins
Losing ground, the chair tumble, and his neck snapped 
She’s no longer flowering his birth   
Mommy has a new bundle of joy 

© 2011 ANNA



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Added on October 26, 2011
Last Updated on October 26, 2011

Author

ANNA
ANNA

Phoenix , AZ



About
I am 28 and love to write. I have been writing for a long time but there is always room for more. I thank everyone that reads my poetry. You truly never know how good something could be until people s.. more..

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