Listen

Having a sister with a mental disability can often lead to some strange instances of feeling neglected and not heard. I wrote this after one of my many attempts to be heard...but my sister beat me to it

LISTEN

Listen to me

Hello.. I'm talking to you

I said I need you to pay attention

LISTEN PLEASE

How are you? Yoo-Hoo!

You're not listening

I can tell by your expression

Hey! I know your not deaf

STOP talking to her

Look my way, don't be shy

I'm a little teapot...

That's no use...blah, Blah, BLEH!

Why is she so special?

She's not a princess or royalty

I can do that, too

You're acting like she's a queen

NEWS FLASH: SHE'S NOT!!!!

She has problems?

So does everyone

So do I!

My grades are slipping

oh! Now you listen to me?

I'm grounded?...

On top of detention!!

Thanks...FOR NOTHING!

LISTEN NOW

She's always in the way

Just because she's "special"

She gets special things

I'm special too, but you can't seem to tell

I just need some you and me time

Let's talk, It will be fun!!

All I ever hear is

She, SHe, SHE

LISTEN

I have a lot to say

I will yell and scream until you look

Come on, talk to me!

Geez, I think I'm talking to a wall

Look my way

I think I should just give up

Unless

You Listen To ME
PLEASE

2001

Good As Gold

This is one of my most recent poems. Written for a child abuse awareness contest.

Good As Gold

Tonight I was good as can be
But why did Daddy have to beat me?
I did the dishes just like he said
but I still get hit upside my head
Everyday I'm good as gold
I try to be brave, and do as I'm told
He even hits mommy, too

both her eyes are black and blue
Sometimes Daddy's heart is full of love
but why'd he throw that baseball glove
that knocked me down onto the floor
everyday he hurts me more
Before bed he holds me and hugs me tight
That keeps me happy, most of the night
But in the morning it starts over again
I hate waiting for that intial pain
In the mornings he enters my room
thats when it starts to feel like a tomb
he pulls my hair and slaps my face,
that's one way to make me wake.
I wear longsleeves, when its hot
so the teacher don't notice the bruises I got
Its always hard to concentrate in class
when you know the day is going too fast
'and soon you'll be home being beaten again
still not believing by your own kin
My teacher asks me if I'm feeling well
I show her one bruise from "when I fell"
she sends me to the nurses room
again a feeling of complete doom
The nurse calls my mommy now,
she explains my bruise and asks her how
Mommy says I was outside playing
i sit there nervous as she's explaining.
If daddy finds out I'll be beat for sure
probably even knocked to the floor.
I hate this feeling of living in fear
of knowing that my future isn't clear
I talk to mommy and start to cry
she does too as we both ask why
why does she put up with it?
why's he hit me, I'm only a kid?
Twelve years old I'll turn next week
surviving unscathed will be a magical feat.
Daddy hits mommy every single day
I worry too much and never play
I sit in my room and do as I'm told
cause Remember..I'm good as gold

January 2007

My poetry

I love to write poetry and such. I have been writing for a while and I thought why not create a blog with it!
So the following blog is or will be full of my Poems and the stories (if any) behind them!