Poem -
My Boy
My Boy
Lives with dead dreams
And mine have died too.
My Boy
Lives life at the bottom of a bottle
And mine is awash with his pain.
My Boy
Was going to be a Fireman, a Train Driver,
Or a Rock Star
And I was going to be a good Mother
My Boy is out of reach,
Out of chances, out of time
And I can't reach through his addiction,
Give anymore chances.
My Boy and Me,
We're both out of time...
Like 2 Pin it 0
Support CosmoFunnel.com
You can help support the upkeep of CosmoFunnel.com via PayPal.
Comments
Powerful, evocative and heart-wrenching. It obviously comes from a deep well of pain and suffering; but you've taken that and used it to create an artwork.
Of course I'm not saying that writing poetry will change your world...but it may ease your journey through it...just a little.
Welcome to Cosmofunnel.
J ;)
Thank you for your feedback J.
HIT A VERY SAD NOTE--FOR ME POETRY COMES FROM THE HEART AND EXPERIENCE-
SOLID EMOTION -THANKS
Thank you, it does help to write.