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Tyrant
March 19, 2011
Is this what a father is? a mother? where i'm headed?
intoxicated rages, drunken brawls
to come home and beat the first i see?
all i've ever known is you and your brutal fist
and what you've told me
i'm useless
i'm pathetic
i'm an accident
i'll never be anything
And I'm done with it
I've torn the shackles from my battered wrists
I'll rise above you
I can
I will
© Jennifer H., Bethesda, MD
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This article has 5 comments.
DreamsAreBroken said...
on Aug. 1 2011 at 1:06 pm
Very powerful. I sympathize with this poem so much and can relate to it so much. I think you hit it right on. Its a very, in a weird way, beautiful poem
InvisibleNerdGirl said...
on Jun. 12 2011 at 2:04 pm
That's poetic.
And scary.
Fredwardness SILVER said...
on May. 15 2011 at 11:00 pm
What if they beat you until you cannot move? Cannot breathe?
silentlyspoken BRONZE said...
on Apr. 13 2011 at 10:32 pm
Very powerful. I love the end. Great job :)
