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18 years I’ve spent living without you. Dreams where you are present are irrelevant and you are no longer someone I miss...wanting. I spent 17
Staring out the window looking around this neighborhood thats nothing like were I come from but thats fine because everybody who looks like you is not on your side
When the family says they love my money, but they do not love me, I let them. Though the beatings on my back and the slaps across my face burn like a midsummer’s heat wave, I stay. Because the family said they love me.
Life as I knew it was not fair I was thrown from here to there. Never knowing where I might sleep My poetry was all I had to keep. I would write for days upon end
20 years have now passed and It’s hard to believe That the pain of the loss is still there with me As strong as before but with less memory But no less the desire though
Goodbye to a place I once called home Now to a new strangers place, to learn Learn how to live on my own Yet I yearned for just a stable home I had never felt so alone
I want to be in love…
Picturing a beautiful, vibrant young girl crouching Amongst a crowd of bellowing white men, Who won’t put down the argument that doesn’t concern them. This beautiful, vibrant young girl Is the argument.
I've done a lot of things that'll chill you to the bone. Ask all my former enemies, whole lives portrayed on a single stone. The only sign that they were loved, withered flowers in a cone.
Garbage bags,black, dragged behind me away from the school I have come to love, away from the family I have come to know. Just another sea of faces in this relentless institution that is my existence.
It gets lonely sometimes When you are your ony friend The popular girl 10 months ago Has finally met her end At least thats what it appeared to be Parties drugs and alcohol all slowly consumed me
“From dust you came and to dust you now return.” A mound of earth sifts through the preacher’s hand Small rocks break free, hitting the coffin’s lid With pops like tiny bullets
Little girls not allowed. Grown-ups deciding fate, Including a future shifting to gray. Doesn’t she have a say? Taught of liberty, Chained doves dream. You’re free to fly.
Without a filter I'm just a kid, Without a father and a mother in prison, I've seen some things that you'll never see, Things that make small children scream, But what you can never see,
My real name was foster kid when I was young and wanted to find a new family. My foster mom called me trouble and I used to misbehave at home and at school.
I never felt powerful, strong, or that I made a difference Kids often don't I never felt my life could be impactful or have a purpose But, that was another me, a younger me My parents made the choice to foster
I Love Lucy “Lucy, I’m Home!” October, 1941; Lucille Ball entered the hearts and homes of Millions of American men and Women.
Bruices, Crys, Hatred
One day I was taken My mind and body were shaken Ended up in a foster home Where my mind started to roam Time pass so quickly The one year mark wasn't very sickly Happily returned with my mother
A perfect boat of gravy,A tender slice of lamb,Crispy green vegetables,Potatoes straight from the pan.
I see their smiles, strained and tired
Only fifteen, so they say you’re a mistake. I feel you in my belly as my heart begins to ache; I made a bad choice, but still I get you as my prize. Your daddy walks out as I wipe tears from my eyes.
My Life The high school days come and go It has sports, plays and even talent shows My high school days have come to an end I remember the time in elementary where I played pretend
They say that they can help me . That's what their here to do . Instead they made it harder to make it one day through . Some days my faith is strong , others the spread is far to wide .
These are two wonderful people, I can clearly say are mine. They love me, care for me, And always give their own time.
(poems go here) You left a long time ago AWOL, Mom said Gone for years Until I finally heard about you Ronald Resendez What are you doing?
Stitches I’m sure I took a nap when I got home. I don’t remember the nap, just the strained stair-climb to my bedroom, me holding my mother’s wrist, my hand with IV holes bandaged over.
growing up as a cub all alone in the streams,without parents life is tough brother take it from me papa bear was shot in a hunters delight moma took the blame even though it aint right 5 cubs all alone to fend for themselves the cave not a home be
I sit on the floor as I cry I wonder why is this happening I don't want a new "mom" or "dad" My foster parents say they love me I think I love them too How can I love these people
last night i dreamed that i was doing a monalog i was back in my firts foster home, my foster mother came dowwn stairs she screamed; GET OUT, GET OUT, GET OUT,