Free

The bottle hits the floor.

                Shatters.

My sister begs for no more.

                Spirit shatters.

I reach up in the air for the lord.

                But my faith shatters.

 

The alcohol is kicking in.

                Mother.

Committing tons of atrocious sins.

               Beautiful mother.

I reach my hands in the air once again. 

               Not to the lord, but to block my mother.

 

I’m finally out of that place.

                Free.

I’m no longer a waste of space.

                Spiritually free.

I reach my hands in the air with grace.

                I’m completely and finally free.

 

This poem is about: 
Me
My family

Comments

upnorthdavid

Strong message. I love that you used repetition so effectively.

hannahjothacker

Thank you so much!

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