My Father and his problems
This isn't one of my best but here we go. Oh and feedback please.
I am forever in a heep of tangles.
A heep of problems that is not mine.
I am always expected to atain a solution.
For the problems that do not belong to me,
Yet always seems to bother me.
Despite my talents for invisibilty.
I always wonder why that is so
But I think I have the answer now.
I glow like the everburning sun with my kindness to help.
I sing with my ever so pure notes of trustworthiness.
I search with my all so innocent eyes for the happiness
That everyone says is in the world.
But which I now know is wrong.
Because those problems that were are not mine
Became mine when I was murdered
By the very person who said that there is happiness in the world.
For he kicked at me!
I screamed at him!
He told me she didn't love him,
I told him there's always hope.
He told me I musn't lie to him!
I told him he was the liar!
He told me to shut up!
I told him to make me!
... and so he did.
And now I lay dead on the floor of my bedroom.
Wondering if my mother shall join me soon...
I dedicate this to all the people who have been abused or have known/know people who is/was being abused.