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| Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 29-May 18:49:06 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 33597
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Divine Hate
[time] => 2004-02-02 21:37:37
[hometext] =>
[bodytext] => divine hate february 2, 2004 in her own home, his mother's home.... he pretends to be this angel the ideal son any mother would want of course, that is when he's not drinking but i can see those small signs the clues to the puzzle in his eyes only i can decipher or even seem to look twice his false face has fooled you all and i am the only one the only one to stand tall and object to a son, no more a man than a eager boy ready to please it is dispecable and pathetic a grown man depending on his mother weak, old, and trying to be happy for the money to take him one step closer to the bar it's gone too far but no one will object to this old-young boy, this reject i suspect lips are sealed from fear of what, i have no guess but it is the conclusion i think is best it pains me to write a poem about him he's not worth my words or effort, i detest and yet all this time this is the first i rhyme in the name of a grown man depending on his mom to get him the cash to have a loner's bash served of vodka and cigarettes alone, he comes home to celebrate with himself and annoy the rest of the family inside im looking at him as just another another *****-up in my life to teach me a life lesson it's a shame every lesson i've to learn involves going through Hell to get to the end and ring that bell look ma, no hands! i can get drunk off less than a pint can i have some money to go out tonight? i'm forty seven but i live with you because i left my daughter and wife in another state, another life but i don't look back i don't give a damn hey-she's just my daughter, give her to another man it's not important, what i left behind the only thing i need is another bottle to help me unwind so mom, when you're awake i'll fake i can be the ideal son you wanted from me when you sleep i disobey the house rules that you lay how can you know when you're lost in dreams? but the next morning when you're sobered and you look around trying to guess what you did the night before you're back to playing your innocent role to make up for yesterday you come home and shower her with flowers even make dinner, to show her you're sorry but sorry you aren't because at your trip to the store you didnt mention what you bought more stashed in the yard is you're supply for tonight a supply to blur your conscience and forget your life you might as well say you're sorry for drinking while you look her in the eye and take another swallow what do you think? that she doesn't know? when you stumble through the house cursing at the tv and picking a fight? oh she knows, we all do and every member of this bloodline family you see you talk to them like a good old buddy well, when you're not around they don't care don't care how you are, only care that you're not there no friends, no job, no house, no life you left the only people that could tolerate you just packed up took the bus and showed up on our doorstep hey mom! miss me? yea right i hate you, you hate me why can't you just let me be? maybe everything wasn't so great before but since you showed up making promises it's gotten worse even more you only think of yourself not your mom or your sister only-can i get a ride, sis? please, grow up i'm only 16 but i'm mature than you i can see people and care but not about you you only take and take and fake and fake but you never give and you never live for someone else, a good deed yea right, unless it's for your benefit like an extra bag of weed it's just not fair that you get to share a home with me and my brother don't you see? i love my grandma's and my brother too but there is no room for even a thought of you i'm not even sure if you're capable of love do you love your mother? i have my doubts i can't conceive what you're all about it amazes me to meet someone who claims to be the ideal son but in reality he's just biding his time to make his move sometimes i think he's only sticking around the wait until his mothers buried under the ground and it hurts me to think of how that can be my great grandma means a lot more to me but it seems he's just waiting to get what he can pretending to be the best of a man but he's a boy still he never grew up and never will tattle and looks to be seen anything to shift attention to himself cause he can't stand to be second string when you treat every one around you like dirt, like ***** how can you even expect it? for someone like me, to look and not see, your false identity? what is the point of defying the truth hiding your self from those you think don't know well i know and i won't let go [comments] => 3 [counter] => 164 [topic] => 6 [informant] => calista [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => AngryPoetry )
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