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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1511268-Birthright
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by Miles Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Philosophy · #1511268
A poem where I was looking back at my childhood
On a cold November morning
Hours before the cock crowed
He entered the world.
Number four, the last in line
A shy, compassionate little boy
Wanting to please, needing approval
Trying to be what everyone wanted.
Never succeeding, doomed to failure.

He looked towards Father
Wanting to be liked, asking for approval.
Boy doesn’t play any sports!
Boy doesn’t work on cars!
Boy’s friends are mostly girls!
Boy only reads books and writes in journals!
Best to ignore him.
Something not quite right with him.

He looked towards Mother,
Pleading for understanding, crying for acceptance,
Boy doesn’t do anything right!
Boy is so stupid!
Boy was never wanted!
She’s angry that he isn’t quite right.
So angry she screams at boy constantly,
She screams and screams and lets him
Know just how stupid he is, but boy doesn’t change..
Something not quite right with him.

Sister is a harsh bitch who likes taunting
Boys who aren’t quite right.
He doesn’t want anything to do with her.
She doesn’t care.
She makes him sorry he was ever born
Not quite right.

He dropped to the ground.
He held his fists to the skies
He cried to the heavens “Forgive me!”
“Please God, forgive me
“For not being quite right.”



© Copyright 2009 Miles (miles.crowson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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