Life through a Rose Lens.

Sat, 02/01/2020 - 13:11 -- Chumba

Hey mom, its just me, its Mr.B, the runt of the litter of 3, yeah its your family!

I’m calling to see how you have been, asking like where you live, ever since you were heaven sent our lives down here have been kinda sh*t, i got a rope in hand to climb our family tree, they’ve been degrading me so I’ll be set free, as soon I kick this chair from out of under me, legs will dangle like off of a balcony..but its hard to see life like it is supposed to be without you sitting here with me. You remember our trip to disney? All I could do is talk, when i wheeled you around the park because you couldn’t walk, I was painting renaissances with sidewalk chalk, i wish for college I had hopped on that bus, but I couldn’t leave the one who knew me as I really was, you threw it all away for us, never made a fuss or b*tched about our possessions, that just had me stressing because now if I leave a voicemail you won’t get my message, if I call I can’t hear your voice, all I wanted to do was save you, now who is gonna save me, I've never been anyones first choice.

This poem is about: 
Me
My family
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 

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