A Story of Murder
It always amazes me of the cruelty
and barbarism that lingers within our world.
If you are squeamish,
please do not read any further.
For what I am about to write
might well upset you.
This is the story about a murder
of a woman, my friend’s ex-wife.
It is quite disturbing
because what is written is true.
This did happen.
She was lying in her bed.
She had been bedridden for a while.
Her strength had been ebbing away
a little each day.
The murderer who’s mother was a neighbour
looked in on her every once in a while
to make her food and a cup of tea
and to see if she was OK.
The son needed drugs and money,
took his mother’s key.
He let himself in and started to look
for anything that was valuable.
Whether she heard him
and shouted out to him
has not been established yet.
However, what happened next
should not happen to anyone.
He went upstairs and stood beside her bed.
It was probably when she spoke to him
that he started hitting her around the face.
He punched her so hard
that he broke her jaw.
She had no strength to push him away,
but he just kept beating her
all the time around the face.
Then he grabbed something heavy
and smashed it over her skull
caving it in and causing damage to the brain.
However, this callous man was not finished yet.
Grabbing a pillow commenced to smother her.
It is unknown whether she had any strength to struggle
with the injuries she had received;
however, I doubt it though.
The police have caught and charged him
and his trial come up at the Old Bailey later this year.
I just hope they throw the book at him,
as society does not want the likes of him
walking the streets again…
I met this women a couple of times
and she was a lovely person
and did not deserve this kind of end.
I am ending this piece here as my rage
for such a crime will get the better of me
and I will start saying things I should not say.
16 March 2008
poem by David Harris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Related quotes
Sad Story 3 (A True Story)
In some lives tragedy lingers
like a low hanging dark cloud.
Take the life of a friend of mine.
A few years ago, he fell off his horse
and missed a lovely weekend away.
After months of recuperation
life started to build itself again.
Getting home one evening,
he found his partner not feeling well
and within a matter of hours, she was gone.
The weeks that followed
his world seem to be caving in.
First his job was to go
and then the flat he lived in.
Nothing seemed to be going right.
He met up with his ex-wife
because his daughter had become
a drug addict and an alcoholic.
Somehow, their love for one another
started to blossom again.
He began to grow in strength again.
Life was getting better at every bend,
but tragedy hadn’t left him,
it just waited to come back.
Then I heard it had struck again
just as he was getting settled
it struck again with vengeance
only this time to his ex wife.
He went around to see her
as he normally did
only to find police everywhere.
Asking why they were there,
they told him it was a crime scene I am afraid
and that his ex wife had been murdered.
How is he coping I am not sure.
I’ve tried to phone him,
but his phone is switched off I’m afraid.
There is an emptiness in my heart
as he is a nice and gentle man.
I shall keep on trying to get in touch with him,
as he is a good friend.
I just hope he doesn’t fall
into a depression again.
One never knows
how much tragedy any man or woman can endure.
This story has no end and nor will it
until I hear from my good friend.
27 February 2008
poem by David Harris
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Weakness In His Strength
"WEAKNESS IN HIS STRENGTH"
Quote;
Weakness in his strength
Born by hatred and raised by anger
He felt like his life was hangin on a hanger
Poor little one,
People loved his dad, but to him he was dead
Happiness.
His dad's name, in his senses
Covered by memories
And surrounded by sadness
He said he had seen the worst
But he is not the first
He had failure as his big brother
Hatred kept near them as their mother
He thanked God for every breath
But could not find the weakness in his strength
The weakness in his strength
Poor little one, with his
Weakness in his strength
Lights looked bright to others but to him
They looked deem
Funeral for his mother…
Dead and gone was Mrs. Hatred
That's the moment he forgot about hate and
Decided to move in with dad,
Living Mr. Anger alone which left him mad
Success, a beautiful lady his dad
Started dating last weak
She was introduced to him
But still felt weak
Education, who she met at school and changed his life
Who she later made his wife
Had to hire a babysitter by the name of health
After having a baby who they named wealth.
The weakness in his strength
Weakness in his strength
Started facing death.
Written by,
Ino29
poem by Ino29 Music
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The Day Jane Fainted
Jane fainted in the town
by the coach
on Saturday morning
and her mother
and other women
were around her
and you stood
a little way away
wondering what
had happened to her
I think it must be
that time of the month
you heard one woman say
maybe
her mother said
but she's not usually
like this
she added
will she be all right?
you asked
bending down
next to one
of the women
who had gathered
her mother looked at you
and said
yes it happens
at certain times
of the month
oh right
you said
none the wiser
gazing at Jane
at her dark hair
her eyes closed
her features
white and sweaty
best give her some air
her mother said
and you all stood up
and her mother
fanned her
with her hat
then after a minute or so
Jane opened her eyes
and said
what happened?
I went all funny
and everything went white
you fainted
her mother said
waving the hat
in front of Jane's face
I want to get up
Jane said
and so you
and her mother
helped her
to her feet
and she leaned
against the wall
of the bank
and looked around
she'll be all right now
a woman said
it happens
another said
after a few minutes
they went off
to the shops
leaving you
and your mother
and Jane
and her mother
standing by the coach
I'll be all right now
Jane said
ok
her mother said
and you all walked
along the street
to the shops
Jane walking behind
with you
her hand stealthily
reaching down
for yours and giving it
a little squeeze
then releasing it again
looking up at the sky
which had become dark
threatening rain.
poem by Terry Collett
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She is and Always will be my Hero
When I think of my favorite song, it is Hero, by Mariah Carey.
To me, the hero inside me is my Mother, because when I feel
I am facing the world alone, she is always there.
Hero
As I have traveled this long road of life,
There is only one person in my life
Who I could really depend upon
To make me see right from wrong;
She would always make me see
The real me and for that I thank her.
She taught me that all I had to do
Was to look inside to find my true self;
I never really knew what she meant,
But as I get older...
I have begun to understand.
The first time I heard this song
My Mom came to my mind
Because she is my true hero;
She's been there for me through it all,
The good and the not so good times.
She always told me that
The sorrows that I felt
Would soon subside and that
True happiness would find
Its way back to my heart.
And then my hero comes along,
It was my mother all along,
She gave me strength to carry on,
Helped me cast my fears away
When I felt all hope was gone.
She said, 'Just look inside yourself And you will see a better you.'
She has always stood beside me
In everything I've had to do,
Be it right or be it wrong,
She's been there to see me through.
She tells me, search within my self
And a hero I would find;
When no one else reached out to help,
My Mom would always lend a hand
To guide me down the right path.
When that hero comes along,
I have strength to carry on,
And my fears are cast aside
Because I know I can survive
With her strength to carry me
Through life's dark and stormy sea.
So when I feel all hope is gone
I can finally see the truth
And that is that a hero lies in me,
Because you, Mom, were there to guide me through.
Lord knows my dreams have often been Hard to realize, but then
She would always to me say,
Don't let them take your dreams away,
Hold on to them oh so tight
For tomorrow always comes, in time.
You'll find a way to make your dreams come true
So as I sit here writing, Mom, I want to thank you
For all the times you have been there
To pick up the pieces of my broken spirit,
To help mend what needed mending,
And most of all for your love,
You see you are the true HERO in my life.
By MELISSIA ANN SENTER
poem by Melissia Ann Senter
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I Dreamt
I dreamt that the LORD came to me
And a message he did give me.
In this dream:
I came upon the face of the LORD
Long before I was born.
He came and touched my soul
And made me completely whole.
He said: you are going down to earth
To this woman who will give you birth
She will show you all there is to know in life
who will show You how to bear the struggles and strife.
there is so much that you must learn
And many a life you must turn.
There are so many people who have gone astray
I need you to show the way.
Your mothers love will strengthen you every day
It’s a beautiful price that you will pay.
Strength from above and strength from below
We’ll show you the way you have to go.
She has prayed for you for many a year
Now it’s time for your love to share.
The love that she gives to you
Will help to see you through,
Open your heart to all that are around
They will come to you in leaps and bounds.
You will have a purity that every person
Will feel and see, this is the way that it must be.
In this dream I saw myself learning the bible
Although I had not opened up one in quite a while.
I started to read the stories of his life
And the miracles he created, and lives that
Were turned around that were devastated.
Then I awoke and I felt empty inside
Tears rolling down my cheeks that I tried to hide.
I knew that it was a dream and that it could never
Happen to me, for it was something that I could not see.
And although I can’t recall the features of his face
FAITH, LOVE, HOPE, in me he did place.
poem by Louis Rams
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That Was Almost
Me now travol trom home
To town me find a lot of pipo running away
Me don know wat has happened
Me suddenly find da police van pull up
Dey say they want to take me
I ask dem wat I have done
Da police laugh and dey hit me in da belly
Me triy to run dey thro me down
One police man shouted he didn't do wrong
Me triy to say dey hit me in da belly
Now wat happened was a night mare
They hit me in da belly
Dey rolling me like a chicken
Dey called me thief
Dey kicked me a lot but me started to cry
Dey laugh and laugh but I stoped to cry
Now what happened was heaven
I got up I hit one in head
And he started to cry
Den suddenly all of dem ran after me
Me started to shake almost urinated
Suddenly dey caught me den me started to sing
Dey laughed dey laugh
Den I started to remove my cloths
Dey now thot I was mad person
Dey quickly got back in the van as they thot dey caught da wrong person
Den me ran home
I told my mom dat was so close
poem by Tanaka Chirombo
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RAP I She
She was born in a family of six
She was the fourth one
She looked tall while in the cradle, was raised like angel
She started going to school
And I don’t know what school she went
Full of hopes and playing with her dolls, her parents of good nature
And one day she heard there was another woman in her home
Her father had married another time, her mother went mad
Her father celebrated the nuptial night
She could feel, after a long time, I saw her again
She had to pay her school fee
In the hope she becomes a doctor
After long efforts, she could not make it that way
And one day she came with her brother
Lost looks and gazing into space
Looking at other children that how they were enjoying
Their youthful lives
She accompanied by her brother, who looked more, a village boy
The brother younger who had no sense of direction
Was out of tune
It reminded me les miserables of the Victor Hugo
I could not imagine, disasters happen so near to the dears
I felt devastated with the thought that the same could happen to me also
What lies in her future, we leave it to her luck but what’s written on her face
The gentleness of her soul and her brother’s eyes
The two young angels, I pray to succeed in life
11/9/2008
poem by Sadiqullah Khan
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For all that you do
So if you ask me what it is I do with my days
I will tell you I go through them in such a haze
That I'm really not sure what it is I achieve
But I do have a poem or two up my sleeve! .... Suzanne
I appreciate for all that you do
You are not only woman but in essence a factor very much true
A devoted mother and wife
Otherwise life is like facing an edge of knife
Think of those poor ladies!
They have no time to ready
Their children for going to school
As they have no such facilities to fool
To toil hard in hot sun is entirely different
You can look happiness and that is apparent
I can look in their eyes no future but yes long hope
Even though it is hardest of hard job to walk on rope
Child is tied in bed sheet between trunks of trees
Air flows gently to provide him access totally free
See the happiness on face of woman while she works
Such is the day when she dreams about it and starts
I would love to salute all those women
Who are called heaven valley for all those men?
Now occupying highest position in world
Yet dream about reaching to her kind fold
Oh! Women of all kind you deserve the best
As we have found shelter to rest
You take all our responsibilities
That is rarest of rare to augment our capabilities
We shall be all powerless
On the earth to face
If anything turns unfavorable
You are their to look after and face the trouble
I shall look towards sky and raise my head
In recognition of your gratitude and read
All your sacrifice and lead the way carefree
As I am the only creature so thankful to the mighty tree
You deserve kudos for all you do
Not as wife or mother to take us through
But as an special identity to sail us
With so much of confidence and trust
poem by Hasmukh Amathalal
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All I wanted is for you to love me
All I wanted is for you to love me! ! ! !
She had her when she was only 15 years old, and her baby was so beautiful! many people told her that, and she smiled tho but! ! ! ! in the back of her mind she hated her child tho.From taking thee attention away that she craved! ! ! ! ! and she was thinking it will never be about her, but always about her so called beautiful daughter. Now as time went along her mother blamed her for the men that went away and didn't stay the mother claimed that men would say, that her child act so childish each and everyday that there developed a frown on the mother face like her daughter was the case that her men friends went away, but it was always how she miss treated her daughter in there faces like calling her Miss. little red **** In front of her male acquaintance and she would laugh! ! ! ! when they didn't think it was funny, she ask for them to leave, and they would say you crazy! ! ! If that was my baby you would regret the day you ever mat me. And when they left she start yelling at her baby telling her look what the **** you did again! ! ! ! Thee anger, the rage, the look she gave. She grabbed her baby slammed! ! ! ! ! her on her bottom in a chair and piece, by piece, start cutting her hair. Telling her you think your better then me! ! ! ! you think your prettier, then me, you red **** You think you can compete with me **** even tho she's only eight years old. Talked about her birthmark on her feet and said thats the start of you being ugly, and the daughter just cried! ! ! ! The mother said you make me do these things to you because you think you so got dam! ! ! beautiful.
Years later a history of events occurred thur out the years and now the daughter is now 15 and her mom hating on her body, that she covered up all the mirrors or gave them away so her daughter wouldn't be able to look at her face. What ever the daughter can see thur the mother trash that too the daughter asked why are you so mean and taking everything because this is mine **** you always think your cutter then me! ! ! You red ****you want to hit me so I can **** up your face! ! ! ! wearing your tight jeans acting like you so much better then me you red **** And the daughter didn't say a word she just looked at her and her mom responded you looking down on me and the daughter responded no! ! ! ! Then responded I should have gave you away when the doctor placed you in my ***** hand, and she went on to say that day I brought you home I should took your clothes off and left you in the cold! ! ! ! ! you red ***** should be thankful and grateful that I didn't do that **** to you I'm only telling you this for your own *** good! ! ! then her mom said you want to hit me don't you **** and the daughter responded no but I'm sad for you tho, that you couldn't be the mother I needed you to be, and it hurts it really hurts, and the mom responded **** you **** and the mom said what is that chair doing in your room! ! ! ! I just wanted you to love me. The daughter stood up in the chair the mom responded **** get down off my **** the daughter said I would never be loved by you the mother said you got that right! ! ! the daughter started to cry and the mom responded you ugly **** daughter went to her pocket grabbed the knife and cut her own wrist I had to do this JUST TO GET AWAY FRom you, you jealousy **** she smiled and fell to the floor bleeding to death. Then the mom started yelling noooooooooo my baby my beautiful baby girl! ! ! ! ! ! !
Clarence Williams of greater
poem by Clarence Williams
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My Friend Oliver
My name is Roberts,
a reporter I used to be;
until one day I was sent to interview
an interesting man
whose name was Oliver Cyriax.
It was many year ago
that I first met him
and much to my surprise
he asked me to be his official biographer.
He stood against a fireplace
with his briar pipe in his hand.
He then went to tell me
stories from distant lands.
He wasn’t adventurer, but a ghost hunter of sorts.
I sat there in amazement
at all the things he said.
Those stories weren’t for recording,
at least not yet.
They were told to explain to me
of the kind of life he lead.
His career if you want to call it that
started in the middle 1800’s
on a Tramp Steamer
and lasted for more than half a century.
The strange things he saw
at times made my blood run cold.
He seemed a very quiet man
who was content with his life.
He did not appear to be someone
you would expect for the job that he did.
He smiled when he spoke
of a couple of amusing tales
he had been involved in
and looked sad at others
which had taken something from his life.
He related tales of horror,
which made you, shiver when he spoke.
He related tales of mystery
of which some were never to be solved.
He told me how he had lost friends
with their encounter with the unknown.
When he finished speaking,
I told him I would be honoured
to become his official biographer.
Therefore, started a thirty odd year friendship
that I hoped would never end.
From time to time, we would meet
and fresh new stories he would tell,
right up until the time
he retired and moved away.
I got a letter yesterday
to say he was happy now.
He was far away
from any ghostly goings on.
I write this as an introduction
to a character I’m going to write about
as I delve into his casebook
and tell the world
about the strange things that he did see.
poem by David Harris
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Its All in Her Strength
Before the sun rise she stumbles in the dark
The light of the day is the fire which burns her hands
Its dark she knows but the light has to shine
The pride of being a mother to her young
Its all in her strength
By the fire she holds the lectures
The lessons that change the society forever
She is not at all wise she knows but dares
For ts the shame of morons she can't bare
It is all in her strength
Noon time the sun scotches
She tills the ground hard in hope of a feed
Its too barren and dry, the blisters on her hands tear
But its provisions she must offer
Its is all in her strength
Evening the dark loiters
Oh the day is gone but not further
For tonights' dinner she's labored
Its all in her strength
The strength of an African woman
poem by MaryVivien Namata
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My Mama, My Lovely Mother
When at infancy, I wee inside her food
She never stop eating
my mama, my lovely mother
When am ill and sad, healthy and happy,
She keep praying for me
my mama, my lovely mother
When I started crawling,
Tears of affection made her eyes heavy
my mama, my lovely mother
When I walk, her fear increases,
That I might go the wrong way
and get hurt
my mama, my lovely mother
When she look at me,
Her gaze always ask me,
How are you my child
my mama, my lovely mother
When am sick, it brings out
The doctor in her
my mama, my lovely mother
I never grow old for her tender love,
Oh! God bless my mother and make
Her proud of me
my mama, my lovely mother
poem by Michael Odor
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We Will Be Strong
Pity the fool
Its hard but he broke a rule
And that isnt done
Somehow, someday, brother will use a gun
Just walking the town
Just painting it sad
Its bringing me down
Its driving me mad
Woman is away from me
We will be strong, we will be strong
I know we have the strength to carry on
We have the strength
I know my rights from wrong
I know youve lost Ive won
We will be stronger
We will be strong
And getting stronger every day
Believe me when I say it
There is no other way to convey it
No other way you clown
Your thoughtfulness has brought us down
And that isnt right
That we should walk alone on the streets at night
Just checking the time
Walking that very fine line
The humour is black
The plan is attack
Now woman is away from me
But we will be strong
We will be strong, we will be strong
I know we have the strength to carry on
We have the strength
I know my rights from wrong
I know youve lost Ive won
We will be stronger
We will be strong
And getting stronger every day
Believe me when I say it
There is no other way to convey it
Down on your luck
The shock it has struck
The weak ones will die
The questions are why? why?
Does anybody hear?
Does anybody understand?
Let me make it clear
Nows the time to take a stand
Now woman is away from me
But we will make it strong
We will be strong, we will be strong
I know we have the strength to carry on
We have the strength
I know my rights from wrong
I know youve lost Ive won
We will be stronger
We will be strong
And getting stronger every day
Believe me when I say it
There is no other way to convey it
We will be strong
We will
We will be strong
We will be
We will be strong
We will
We will be strong
We
We will
We
We will be
We
We will
We will be strong
We will be strong
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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We Will Be Strong
Pity the fool
Its hard but he broke a rule
And that isnt done
Somehow, someday, brother will use a gun
Just walking the town
Just painting it sad
Its bringing me down
Its driving me mad
Woman is away from me
We will be strong, we will be strong
I know we have the strength to carry on
We have the strength
I know my rights from wrong
I know youve lost Ive won
We will be stronger
We will be strong
And getting stronger every day
Believe me when I say it
There is no other way to convey it
No other way you clown
Your thoughtfulness has brought us down
And that isnt right
That we should walk alone on the streets at night
Just checking the time
Walking that very fine line
The humour is black
The plan is attack
Now woman is away from me
But we will be strong
We will be strong, we will be strong
I know we have the strength to carry on
We have the strength
I know my rights from wrong
I know youve lost Ive won
We will be stronger
We will be strong
And getting stronger every day
Believe me when I say it
There is no other way to convey it
Down on your luck
The shock it has struck
The weak ones will die
The questions are why? why?
Does anybody hear?
Does anybody understand?
Let me make it clear
Nows the time to take a stand
Now woman is away from me
But we will make it strong
We will be strong, we will be strong
I know we have the strength to carry on
We have the strength
I know my rights from wrong
I know youve lost Ive won
We will be stronger
We will be strong
And getting stronger every day
Believe me when I say it
There is no other way to convey it
We will be strong
We will
We will be strong
We will be
We will be strong
We will
We will be strong
We
We will
We
We will be
We
We will
We will be strong
We will be strong
song performed by by Thin Lizzy
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Philippians 4: 13
The strength to resist the night
The strength to endure the day
The strength to keep righteous paths in sight
The strength to take them without delay
The strength to find a purpose in life
The strength to find the truths it brings
The strength to kick away from strife
The strength to stabalize the rock it clings
The strength to light a friend’s day up
The strength to resist wrathful foes
The strength to fill a stranger’s dry cup
The strength to shun sin when it opposed
The strength to feel a injured man’s pain
The strength to hold a reject’s hand
The strength to act against any gain
The strength to love without demand
The strength to understand that our King
Has blessed us with more than we can contain
Therefore regardless what time may bring
The strength will continue to reign
poem by Anders Lim
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Mother Moon II
Mother give me strength
Give me wisdom, give me will
Give me love, give me health
Let me know what is real
Tell me who to trust
Tell me what is fate
Give me the strength to love
And the maturity not to hate
Let me fall in love
Let me have true friends
Show me the real meaning
Of together until the end
Give me the power of prayer
Let me have a stable mind
Give me the strength to have patience
And the strength to be kind
Help me stand and fight
Don't let me run away
Give me the bravery to face my fear
And to face another day
poem by Tatianna Rei Moonshadow
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Faded Pages
Recently I started retyping
a manuscript of short stories
I had written twenty years ago.
The pages were faded;
too much time being opened to the sun.
As I typed, I smiled
at the things I had written
and the dialogue I had created.
The stories are about a cat
and looking at the world
through his eyes and thoughts.
I had even created him a language
that I had to write a glossary
at the back of the book to explain
what some of the phrases meant.
There is a vast array of characters
and most have a funny turn.
I also remember what prompted me
to write the stories long ago.
My original intention was to write
one story and one story only,
but a friend of mine at the time
persuaded me to write another and another.
Before long, a volume was finished
with enough stories to start another.
From a one off story I have written over sixty now
about the cat and all his friends.
Now as I flick through these faded pages,
which I haven’t read in years,
I find myself being reunited
with many long lost friends.
26 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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Ever After
The life of a fairy tale.
Can be like our own.
The ending is happy.
But the story unknown.
The story begins.
Then there’s always a twist.
You can’t get to the ending.
Unless you persist.
Some stop reading the story.
When things, they look bleak.
They don’t have the strength.
Their hearts are too weak.
So they grab a new tale.
Then the reading begins.
If it ends in the middle.
Then nobody wins.
So things just seem hopeless.
Because we always quit.
We don’t finish the story.
To the fear we submit.
God tells us, “Hold on.”
“The ending is near.”
“Just keep reading the story.”
“Don’t give in to fear.”
“Believe in My ending.”
“Believe and then hope.”
“That the hero will climb up.”
“From the end of his rope.”
And so you continue
The prince finds his queen
The greatest fairy tale ending
You ever had seen
But had you not finished.
The true ending unknown.
The prince would not have a queen.
To share with his throne.
Fairy tales are filled.
With both sadness and laughter.
Where you finish the story.
Becomes your ever after.
poem by Ryan Lee Morris
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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Give Me Strength
Im not one to complain
But things get heavy now and again
These obstacles leave
Little scars on the brain
Give me strength to carry on
Give me strength to carry on
I know this worrying
Makes my body ill
Stops me reaching the heights
Where we all belong
Give me strength to carry on
Give me strength I must feel strong
Give me strength to carry on
Give me strength I must feel strong
I will relax in your arms
Feel like a newborn babe
Ill be floating in space
Watching the world turn round
Give me strength to carry on
Give me strength I must feel strong
Give me strength to carry on
Feels like all my hope is gone
Relax in your arms
Like a newborn babe
Float in space
And watch the world turn
Problems seem to fade
Weightless in the air
No need to worry
Leave it behind
Im not one to complain
But thing get heavy now and again
Getting through these obstacles
Leave skas on the brain
You make me feel
There is no need to worry
It will be fine
Given some time
song performed by by Howard Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Not A Poem But (my Life)
MY NAME IS LETICIA CERVANTES
I am 18 years old I was born in Oakland, CA i have a a ason thats 4 years ols and i live in Sacramento, CA but was raised in San Jose, CA.
my sons name is Alexis and he is my world.....n yeas i knw that i had him really young i was only 13 when i found out that i was pregnant and until this day i dnt regret any minute of it......my life growing up was rough never had a dad to look up to and my mom was never there for me well she was m\but most of the time she had to work since she was a single mother of 8 children. i slept in the streeets a couple of times but i survived.......and when my son came into thiz world he made it seem worth while n now he is the only reason why i live.
when i was 7 i started writing poetry by the time i was 12 i was discovered by one of my teachers that i wa a great poet and they snd me to meat one of the greatest poets. by the time i turned 16 i already had 4 medals for my poems n now 2 years later i actually have 20 medals and im so happy......all the people that looked down on me now are changing there ways and they want to be part of my life but its not going to happen.......right now the things that are going on in my life are that im about to graduate highschool and my son well start kindergarden pretty soon and im so excited.....and im proud of being a single mother because i knw that i dont need a man by my side to raise my child by myself without any help.....come on im only 18 and i own my own house i go to school in the morning i ahve a job on the side wich i work every day and it pays alot of money and i give my son the best things jordan shoes nikes nice close all expencive becasue my son is never goin to be waring cheap clothes i never did so he will never eaither n i knw i spoil him but iz all good because i have the money to do so.....well thiz iz the brief story of my life adn i hope u liked it and liked what u hear well thankz for taking the timke to read and take care
poem by Leticia Sanchez
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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