Jun 4, 2007

make suggestioin to make poem better

MY DREAM
i wanna write a way

i wanna write here

i wanna write brave words to fight my fear

i write my dreams and nightmares like the day my neices life flashed before my eyes

now all i see is ashes and while she lays in grave resting in peace

now she's probably wondering what her life would

i just wish i could've replaced her life with me and bring her back to this not so wonderful world

she could've been sleeping tight saying good night right now and not in ashes and bones and not knowing where soul would be

but theres one thing she will always remember ill always love her no matter where she is

even dough she didn't know the defenition of love she just died to young

i might scare some folks stuck in the days with nothing to say
but that was just the begining heres the end

my little cousin beaten to death by her so called father every time he saw her he abused and left bruses

like an races cop at war with blacks and whites in the 40's - 60's

every time i see that man it reminds me of the harmful death my little lived

now every time i see that man i feel like killing him i should've when i had the chance and put him out of his missury now people look at me like i'm some kind of criminal

i guess i just miss the i use to carry her in my arms the way she use laugh the way she use to try to mimic every word and silybol anybody said

but people still look at me like i'm some kind of criminal but i say in my mind is cause of my skin color or what i said

and now with an stare and glare like ive been living street and corner selling weed crack and co-cane

just cause they confuse my race and the way i dress

i may be American Hispanic Asian what ever does it even matter

you take one look at don't even know and already judjing

but non of this wouldn't never been happening if that so called father of my little cousin never beat her to death

and her mom at a window

tears going down her cheeks like an rain drop gliding down window and still wondering about that so called father of my little cousin

my cousin on her lap

and the deciept i see in the eyes of the so called father

the sadness in the moms eyes

and the tears in mine and my little cousins

LIKE I SAID I WANTED TO WRITE A WAY THAT WAY IS POETRY AN CONFUSED DREAM WHICH IS REALITY THAT WILL CONTINUE TO INTERNAL DEATH

by: STEVEN MOREL

1 comment:

  1. Anonymous6/05/2007

    i c u got many ideaZz each better than b4
    But tweak the lineZz I got lost in it so you gotta work on it more
    The more you work it
    The more its perfect
    The transitioning is off and i can't see where u goin wit it
    Ur lineZz r fantastic no doubt bout it
    I gotta give it 2 u I ain't neva seen ur work b4 but u betta b proud bout it
    Gudd job
    Juzz need a adjustments not a whole lot to do
    n dis would b perfect 4 any slam 2

    (damn I wish I wrote poemZz again...lolz)

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