Mother Must I

Mother Must I

A Poem by Don Shaw
"

I had to come back and edit this. I wrote this after reading the news of another child suicide. There is always hope. Suicide is a permanent decision to a temporary problem .

"
      Mother Must I
                         Another school day, waking full of dread.
                         Another school day, of wishing i was dead.

                         Mother must i, utters from my lips,
                         rise and shine sleepy head, slapping at my hips.

                         Putting on clothes, the combing of my hair.
                         Going to school, is more than i can bare.

                         He would be there, with iron fist clenched.
                         Out the door i trudged , inch by inch.

                         Mother must i , utters from my lips.
                         Smiles and nods, behind her coffee sips.

                         Hate for another, fear, remorse, and guilt.
                         Pain in every hallway, a flowers look of wilt.

                         In my mind i am plotting,to end this senseless shame.
                         To some a house of learning, to me ensuring pain.

                         The calling of names, spitting in my face.
                         Shoved into walls, the inflected disgrace.

                         Who can save me, from education hell ?
                         Teachers are the witness , deaf ears hear no tale.

                          Mother must i, utters from my lips.
                          Out the classroom doorway, now in his grips.

                           He gave me a violent backhand, head hitting floor.
                           All the kids are laughing, calling to see more.

                           Slithering down the hallway, clawing to escape.
                           Another day of learning, bleeding was my fate.

                           Oh mother must i, utters from my lips.
                           Hallway sounds echo, my blood as it drips.

© 2011 Don Shaw


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Reviews

Give the bullies a taste of what they are dishing out and see if they can take the pain that you would rather live without. I know for fact of experainces of my own, that once you stand up to them and give what they are dishing, they usually tuck their tails and go running home to mommy. There will come a time when you have finally had enough and stand up against them For You. But I know the feeling of beeing picked on by every kid in the class, just remember however their actions crass, one day soon, YOU, will kick their a*s.

Posted 11 Years Ago


Bullies are basically cowards
You must face up and strike a blow.
If you can catch him off his guard
And by your action let him know.
You wont be bullied any more
by him or any one at all
Your peace of mind you can restore
When you make him your punching ball

Posted 12 Years Ago


like the overall message and enjoyed particularly the use of repetition of mother must i and the structure. well done

Posted 12 Years Ago


So heartbreaking that children have to go through! I really makes me mad!!! No child should be bullied at school or anywhere. This poem is a great way of showing what children have to go through and most of the time the adults don't know! This is a very powerful write! Great job....you got me fired up for that poor child!

Posted 12 Years Ago


very well written and so real for so many x

Posted 12 Years Ago


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crazy good rhyme and meter..the poignant message of pain..and the mother who doesn't hear..heartbreaking.

Posted 12 Years Ago


a rueful delight.

Posted 12 Years Ago


Very relatable to many, emotions expressed here convey so well, flow and rythm give it hat intensity, love it !!!

Posted 12 Years Ago


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hmm
wow so poetic, amazing flow. so very nicely done.


Posted 12 Years Ago


Awesome,
I like the way it has kind of a creepy tone to it :)
Thumbs up! :D

Posted 12 Years Ago



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935 Views
15 Reviews
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Added on September 30, 2011
Last Updated on September 30, 2011
Tags: school, bullies, pain, hell, violence, shame, beatings

Author

Don Shaw
Don Shaw

San Angelo, TX



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I love the art of expression, be it of paint or pen, or a spoken word. more..

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