An Incomplete Mother.

Incidentally my 200th post. Please click on the original.

The World Past Me

I felt after writing this poem that it was really mature. At least for me. Please do comment and tell me: have I managed to conveyed the correct emotions here? How did you find this poem? Thanks a lot, and with a lot of love.

3d-ultrasound-imageEleven months ago, there was a mistake
I was eighteen and in love.
There was some horror and heartbreak
some abuse, homelessness and stuff.
And when there was no way to be,
Normal as people are at eighteen
I faced it all and embraced my fate
I didn’t give a shit to all the hate.
“Keep your legs closed, you bitch!”
“And it’s no way to be a cunt.”
 “Bowled out of the league, get off the pitch!”
“I know it’s all a publicity stunt.”
Still, I got a job, bought stuff for you,
And lived off my own earning.
To pull me through there…

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Your Dreams Are Mine.


I hear the thundering Clouds
And I feel the pain with which
They threaten the falling waters.
I can almost hear them say,
“Leave and all hell unleashes.”
Their words sound tough and intimidating
But all I hear is the plea camouflaged in them.
And when the waters take leave anyway,
I hear the shatter of their hearts.
And though heartbreak and despair
Has rendered them helpless and shattered,
They give in to their ego and
All hell breaks loose.
And with those falling waters they
Send a part of them, their tears,
Unstoppable they are, and will forever be.
Each tear tells a different tale,
A small piece of their love.
But each tells something common,
Tracing back to that happy time,
When the rain had said,
“Your dreams are mine.”