For Anthony,

He was ten with his face always stuck in a book

Tales of wizards overcoming abuse at home and having adventures with friends to help him escape his problems, 

eyes always wondering, searching for a mother who wanted no part of him.

 

He was ten when his mother left him for another man who wanted nothing to do with a little Afro-Latino kid that didn't belong to him.

He was ten and already his mom was gone to him, 

family wrecked in chaos so he found family in the streets. 

 

He was fifteen and behind cold bars, staring back with even colder eyes. 

Mother appearing when she's in need, pretending she never hurt you, 

family on the brink of collapse. 

He was fifteen and he already wanted a way out. 

 

At twenty he's repeating his mother's mistakes

like mother like son, leaving behind his own blood. 

I'm sorry they hurt you, I'm sorry they couldn't fix it, 

like mother like son, he's confused. 

 

At twenty-three he's running towards a mother who abandoned him, 

ignoring the family who tried to help him, ignoring those who love him. 

Like mother like son, he's running away. 

 

At twenty-five, he's behind bars again, after neglecting his scheduled visit. 

He's left with no hope, no dreams. 

I'm sorry they broke you, Anthony. I'm sorry I wasn't there, 

like mother like son, he's gone. 

 

This poem is about: 
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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