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the messages
are mix tapes no sense of making nonsense pretending to care when the attention is diffused and elsewhere born into the world and immediately wished away forgotten teachers and kids don't get you at all too shy too quiet too stupid they push, you fall when you open your mouth to speak they tell you "what gall..." swish you away on down the hall and forgotten the Reverend-Minister claims to be a kind friend Death seems much kinder he calls them again --the police take Daddy away whose shame is it whose sin is it now and when you ask him he tugs \on his collar and gives you his scowl and wishes you away and forgotten the relatives know every detail and every little thin lie the know your particulars but they haven't felt the hell knowing what's best for you though they don't wear your shoes making your decisions you're too young to refuse the look wear registers shame and disgrace they wish you away solve the problem on your own and soon again you are forgotten Now you're bigger in your shoes you're not as tall as most you're whittled down a bit you're scarred a bit more than most you shun the meat make it on the crumbs of the toast shrinking while you wear the ill-fitting disguise you've learned how to clean up the mess but not manage your life, their lies... how do you soothe? soothe-- keep my insides smoothed and tucked in don't let them spill out and make me feel like navigating my life isn't done off a cliff the next step I take I might miss and fall break down to be destroyed on the rocks right beside cool calm waters I didn't ask to be someone's daughter the vanity project my peers' punching practice the minister's bully-pulpit the perfect problem to be plugged into someone's left or right socket soothe me hold me tell me it'll be fine why do you continue on with the lie why Mum and Da did you not ever tell me it would be alright? you could've at least lied five year olds don't understand at times that the hours are not forever nor the soothing lie instruct me in the ways now that I'm no longer five... please, soothe. LEGAL COPYRIGHT FOR THIS POEM/WORK/ 11:57AM PST 8/17/2021 TIME AND DATE STAMPED AND ALSO FOR THIS POET/WRITER MELISSA A. HOWELLS AND ALSO FOR THIS LEGAL COPYRIGHTED AND REGISTERED SITE ID MELOO STRAIGHT FROM HER TILT-A-WORLD....WRITTEN DIRECTLY TO THE PAGE re-edtied NOVEMBER 26 2021 11:42PM PST. MANY CHILDREN FROM DIFFICULT FAMILIES ARE NOT TOLD THAT THINGS WILL BE ALRIGHT...AND THERE IN, LIES THE DEEP WHOLE/HOLE OF THE PROBLEM. ALWAYS, ALWAYS, IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN LET THEM KNOW IT WILL BE ALRIGHT AND HOW TO SOOTHE THEMSELVES. Vote for this poem |
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