PoemsBrowse PoemsSlamsFresh DropEchoes
LearnWriting TipsPoetry TermsPoets & ArtistsBooksFor Teachers
ExplorePoetry GenomePoem MapEchoesTake ActionGroups
AboutWrite a PoemDonateSign UpLog In

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.

 

©All Rights Reserved

Something wrong with this poem?

Share

Replies are closed for this poem.

hannahjothacker

View all poems →

Your Poem's Voice

See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.

Comments (2)

hannahjothacker
<p>Thank you so much!</p>
upnorthdavid
Strong message. I love that you used repetition so effectively.

Log in to leave a comment.