The Family Disappointment

A Poem by Kingsley Kong

A poem to my mother.

Dear momma, let me start with i love you. I know you wanted a son who would rise up above you. One to break the cycle. But we both know that you got that with Michael. And I'm nothing but a psycho. I've grown to accept the fact that I'm a disappointment. No need to flex and act like I'm the anointed. I'm sorry for all the pain you felt, every time that I called you from a county jail. But just for the record, it broke my heart too. The second I'd hear your voice, my heart broke in two. It was always a stupid choice that I'd be persuing. Thinking I knew what I was doing, but never had a clue and I was young and dumb and full of ambition. And I'd sit in that cell reminiscing. Trying to figure out exactly how I felt, what was I missing. You reckon it's just the hand I was dealt? I can't tell. You'd think I'd steer clear from crime as many times as I got that belt or switch. But I think we're both old enough to finally admit, my childhood was s**t. And seems to only get worse the older I get. There's a lot of things you did when I was a kid that hurt me. Always sending me to live somewhere else in a hurry. Momma, I know I was mean, but was I really that bad? I always had you, but never a dad. Keith was the closest. But that didn't last, for many years after that I blamed myself. Nobody seemed to want me, I was a burden to all. I'd try to remain strong. Chin up. But with all the commotion and emotions pinned up. The flood gates opened like a dam that was built wrong. I am a dud, and full of hate. Searching for a place that I belong. Somewhere that I am loved, where you and I get along. No fighting, fueding, fussing or cussing. Nothing but joy and happiness while we're discussing,
plans for next weekend, OK now I'm rushing. Too far ahead, let me rewind. Go back in time when I was about a dime. That's 10. You placed me on probation for a crime I didn't commit. You wouldn't hear my side, you just flipped your s**t. I get it though. You needed to teach me a lesson and get my attention. But just a few years later, you sent me to detention. What were your intentions? I've spent my whole Life trying to figure it out. Did you seriously think, without a shadow of doubt, that was the best play? Send me away? Trial on my 17th birthday. And as soon as I won, signed your parental rights away. And what were those words, the ones you said, "I don't want him no more, to me he's dead." No wonder I hate birthdays. Those are the worse days of the year. I've spent most of mine by myself, sometimes in tears, crying out for help trying to see things clear. I only wanted my mother to be somewhat near. You kept me from my brothers, yeah we would fight. But what siblings don't? And you know that I'm right. I will admit, I was a bit rough, but I was only trying to make them tough. You see, by that point, I'd eaten a big dose of reality. Moving to Miami showed me exactly how fucked up a crowd could be. At first they get loud then get up in your face, If you don't protect yourself they'll put you in your place. Only thing you can do is stand up, be a man and face it. If the situation gets outta control, swing first, and with all you got. It only takes a second to get shot and be wasted. I fell in love with the adrenaline rush, the second I tasted my own blood. Dude tried to hit me with a club, so I started basting him. Within a few hits I was dazing him. But I slipped up and turned my back, I was quickly surrounded by 10 of his friends and was attacked. But I didn't run. I stood there and fired
back as if I were a gun. As you can guess, I got my a*s kicked, but 3 of them needed surgery with plastic. I mean plastic surgery. They all left in a hurry. It took me a minute to stand back up, my head and my ribs hurt like a b***h. But from that day forward I was forever respected. See I was only teaching them life lessons. Could've been a blessing. I mean look at Michael. A badass in special forces. He could've grown up without being tortured. But maybe, just maybe it was me that helped make him tough, so he could be all that he could be, when the army got rough. And we both have an idea of what he's been around, you can see it in his eyes when he comes to town. He's always been rather quiet. But despite this, you never Wanna get him mad enough to start crying. He'll split your wig wide open and leave you lying there dying. Walk away staring at your friends hoping they too will try him. I've seen it with my own eyes. It happened on the school bus, some kids thought they were cool and were dipping some snuff, starting spitting it at Michael until he'd had enough. He finally stood up with tears in his eyes, they starting mocking him, "go on you lil baby and cry." Nobody saw it coming, no time to react. You can bet your a*s in 3 seconds flat, he had them both on their back. Blacked their eyes, walked away and laughed. He had fucked them up, as he walked past, I said "damn that's what's up." He went to school with his head held high, not once again was he ever tried. The point of this story is simple, violence isn't always the answer, but it's based on principle. Imagine this, I never existed. It was only you and Tony and the other 3 kids. They'd all be like Bert, sheltered and little b*****s. No way to protect themselves, and probably strait up snitches. Just like your husband, or should I say wife, so quick to make them calls... I know it's not right, but momma you've got bigger balls than that dyke. A sissy, a Pansy with a truck, a motorcycle, and a bunch of electronic junk. Keeping a son from his mother, what a f*****g chump. He thinks he's a man with his gun in his hands though, too scared to put it down and drop them bows. But seriously who's he think he's intimidating? Ain't nobody afraid of a man who's menstruating. Talks about being a biker. More like an arch rival. Only bike that he's been riding is his menstrual cycle. But for real momma, you should be concerned, maybe even distressed. He was sucking up acorns on some guys chest. Dressed like Liz Claiborne, watching gay porn. With his buddies in the garage, packing fudge with corn on the cob, running round screaming that they're the gay mob from grayson county, yelling and telling each other off. begging one another to "please come mount me and get me off." OK enough clowning. Back to the real s**t, momma I need you to know that you have my full forgiveness. I've been thru a lot, and it hurts to just talk about. But I had to get it off my chest, before I start walking out. The only way I know it, who'd have ever guessed, this f**k up could ever be a poet. I'm just lucked up and blessed. Words just seem to go together like Elliott Ness. So momma I'm praying for you to forgive me, the family disappointment of the century. I'm trying to be a great man and I'll get there eventually. Have faith in me. It's all that I ask of you. I'm going to be important one day, even with my attitude. I've decided to not be rude anymore, well maybe. From this day forward, I'll treat people the way they treat me. Accordingly. But most importantly, I wanna say I love you with all of my heart and soul. Life's moving by quick and I'm getting old and I haven't said it enough. And I regret it a lot. Believe it or not momma, you are my rock. You hold me together no matter the weather or storms that cross my path. I actually feel safe when I'm in your arms and hear you laugh. So as I finish this up, I look to the sky, thank the lord up above, the one up high, for Beverly Lynn Sexton. The most amazing mother, and my life's greatest blessing. I love you momma. From the rambling son in which you were appointed. I'll love you forever and ever. The family disappointment.