Tell me your story

hanks sweets!

lotuslover said:hanks sweets!


Just when I start to like you, you tell me about this hanks guy!

Can it be an old poem and more than one poem? I just recently got back on here.

Lol I meant thank u sweets!

Its not my comp. but there was no rules listed on page one from the starter of the thread. Guess your fine with anything. Go crazy with it and list them both!

                       Inherited Burdens

What the hell went wrong with my life?
I could say it started as a kid, when all the confusion began. I could blame it on my parents and their "cooking" habits.
What the hell happened to my childhood?
Frozen dreams of an innocent child, flew out the window when I was seven, see the abuse and punishments caused the insecurities.
Dad refusing to "cook", mom pulling her pistol, loaded and cocked. Flying fists of drug induced zombies. What to do except protect my siblings.
What the hell went wrong with my life?
Reality hit like a ton of bricks, a girl of twelve, unstable stability snatched away for their fix. Looked out my window, and what did I see?
Cops as far as I could see and charging right in. Beating on Dad's door, so he could flush the dope. Praying I was fast enough, I could only hope.
What the hell happened to my adolescence?
Taken away to unkind family, made to become a personal slave, all the while trying to be brave. Hating mom and loving Dad, he cared enough to try to quit before shit got this bad. Waiting and wondering when I can wake up from this nightmare.
What the hell went wrong in my life?
Parents were gone and against the drugs, I couldn't compete. Almost went to prison because they chose to "cook", but not to eat. Risking everything for a blast and that rush. I was old enough to be fearless, but not to be crushed.
What the hell went wrong that day?
Once I thought everything was back to "normal"...no... should have known the cosmic train wreck was eventual. I'll never forget the day I was pulled out of gym, took to my uncles, and told I'd never see my mom again. All the dope caused her death; they say only the good die young, but whoever "they" are, they're full of shit.
What the hell went wrong in my life?
After that day, when I was fourteen, I ran wild and found sister morphine. It progressed to everything under the sun. The grief was suppressed by the obsession with fun. Drinking, smoking, and partying hard...all the while gambling with mom's death card.
What the hell went wrong with my life?
I could blame my actions on all these situations, but that would be nothing but fabrications. I didn't heed the warnings gone past and allowed myself to traverse down the same devilish path. At first it just started because I was curious, doing everything in my power to become oblivious. I let it take over, 'til I couldn't deny it. Finally admitting , I'm a fucking addict. No one to blame, just a victim of circumstances, I had a choice and I blew it.  

                          Left Behind

The woman who sold me stood there and looked on, as her seven year old was degraded and spit upon.

The rape wasn't the worst of the unthinkable abuse, mind games by black cults, like a curse.

You left me here to face this world all alone, really you were never there, a sick mind, totally blown.

I have forgiven you for the tragedies you allowed, I realize you were so high, on a huge cloud.

I can't believe you did this on purpose to ruin my life, and now you are no more than a flick of my pretty eyes.

I know now, I'm not responsible for the cataclysmic spoken lies.

You gave away my purity and innocence for an ounce of dope, see what happened, you hung yourself when given enough rope.

I can't forget the past, but I promise to overcome it, you'll never enter my mind again, no more haunting my frozen guilt.

LONG LIVE JOSEPH AND LUCY NG'ANG'A.(STORY OF MY LIFE)
"You almost there darling,you almost there".
Daddy says in the video.
"You can do it baby" He urges.
His hand is clamped on mummy's,
supporting her back, cheering her on to that final push.
With all her might,
mum clench the teeth and let out a deep scream which is rewarded by a soft shriek from underneath.
Hahaha!
In the sense of victory,she laughs hysterical amidst the tears and the sweat,
and seem to forget the anguish,pain and the horrors of labor.
"You did it my love!" Dad exclaims."It is a beautiful baby girl"

Indeed it is a beautiful baby girl,
and this,
this is her beautiful story.

Born to a warrior,a man as hard as life itself.
Rich in name,status and wealth.
You see,he had three wives,fifteen children,
massive property,finance and large tracks of lands;
full and filled.
His families never lacked.
Daddy physically and emotionally,
generously took care of his own.

Then there was Mama.
Beautiful dark skinned woman,
petite,long black hair,long neck...
haha!
Daddy used to call her "My Gazelle".
Brother calls her "African Queen".
She had the brightest smile,
most sincere eyes,
such a gentle soul.
I still hear her narrating folk tales to us.
Mum would race us to the river and despite her age,
she always won!
Haha!
Mum was lovely,
she was phenomenal,
she was simply perfect!

I had the most beautiful childhood.
A doting,kind and generous mother,
and a father who was my hero!
He would sit me on his laps and make me read newspapers
word by word long before i could even spell my name.
I had a big family and siblings,
friends,a best friend and an imaginary friend,(Tommy).
There was land to till,grow corn and vegetables.
Livestock and green fields to graze among the zebras,
giraffes, antelopes and wildlife.
There were rivers where we dived and swam naked without a care,
oh!and there was the cave!
My cave where we adventured and played hide and seek most weekends.

I had it all!
a safe haven,
a paradise on earth.
Well,
like any other family,
we had our low moments,
there were times daddy would lose his temper and scar mum,
days when a calf or sheep was lost and we wouldn't sleep at peace,
seasons when the rains failed, and we would have not as plenty,
but we were happy.
I was very happy,loved and i knew i belonged.
I was protected,safe and invincible.

yet,
in a day,
one evening as the sun set down the hill,
so did my security,joy and happiness.

I still hear the ambulance sirens.
I remember reaching the gate and seeing the crowd,
"Why is everyone here?" I wondered.
It was the harvest season but i couldn't remember a feast on the calender that day.
"What are they all doing here?" I asked Anna my elder sister.
She walked past me to mum's best friend who took one look at her,
and tears started to flow on her cheeks.
"It will be okey baby." She said as she held my sister,who motioned me to them, in a tight embrace.
But it wasn't okey.
It was never okey.
It has never been okey.

That was sixteen years ago,
seventeen this year.
On July 18th 1997,
they were laid to rest.
In one hole side by side they lay.
Not even death could tear them apart.

"What happened?"
You'll probably wonder.
People still wonder.
The village wonders,
I still do wonder.

Was is suicide?
No!
My parents loved us too much to ever leave us.
Death certificates reads cerebral malaria,
but,
how can two adults die same day,
one 5p.m,other 5a.m from such?
Was is witchcraft?black magic?
Was is homicide?
yes!
Unconfirmed, but yes.
Who did it?
Why would anyone want to hurt my parents?
Who would want them dead?
Was it my step mom?
A neighbor?
Was it an accident?
Was it personal? financial?
What was the motive?

So many questions still unanswered.
Grandma says i need to let go, in order to feel peace.
But how can i be at peace when my heart still aches?
when trouble still wary my soul?
She tells me to forgive and forget.
But how can i forgive when i don't know who,
or what to forgive?
how can i forget,
when i crave mama's laughter everyday?
while i long for the rides across the country with daddy so much.

I miss mom every mothers day when am buying presents for her mum.
I miss her when i think of my unborn Princess Mia and wonder what i will answer,
when she asks after her grandma on Christmas day.
I miss her most when i am sick and need to hear he say,
it will be okey.

But lately,
with all the growing up,
i realize it is dad i need more.
I wanted him so much at my graduation last year,
i need him in my everyday life,
I require his input and support in decisions and changes i make.
And the fact that dad will not hold my hand down the aisle
to my groom on the wedding day,
does bring tears to my eyes.

I miss them more, each day when i look in the mirror.
mum's black hair,
daddy dimples,
its all here,
all in me.
I am a total reflection of who they were.
Well,
i did end up pretty short,
contrary to mama's long legs and dad's height,
but,
i hope each day,
they do concur that i am their "beautiful baby girl"
and wasn't switched after birth.

I hope they are proud of who i am.
I hope i make them happy,
i hope dad does see his 'son', as he would fondly called me,
every time i make a good bargain on the negotiation table.
I hope mum smells the aroma every time i try her recipes.
I hope they see what they dreamed of,
May 1st 1989 when they first held me in their arms.
more than  anything,
i hope i do honour them as they deserve.

That is my story.
A beautiful beginning and not so beautiful ending.
but all the same,
i smile everyday,
because,
when they conceived me,
when they gave birth to me,
while they were still here long before they died,
they impacted in me,gave me,
all the blessings,virtues and qualities i need,
to thrive in this life.

Daddy gave me brains,courage,
a voice that cannot be tamed,charisma and pride.
Mama dear gave me brains,style and class.
she taught me the grace,nobility and humility.
Together they gave me a priceless asset:
A fine personality that no money can buy.
One that open doors and grant me immeasurable favors.
A psyche that has been a guide,guard and that have taken me places i never dreamed of.

Most importantly,
they taught me love,to give and receive love.
they taught me the true meaning and value of a family.
Above all,
they gave my siblings and i a home,
a place to get back to if need be.
They gave me a fitting inheritance.

Though i cry every time i lay flowers on their grave,every anniversary,
i also remember to give thanks.
because,
in me,
they still live on.
Every writing i put up or publish,
every speech i give,bold move i make,
i see dad's intellect and influence.
Every time i smile to a stranger, a patient,
every time i hit the runway,every person i embrace or life i change,
i feel my mother's goodness, aura and magnificence.
And through my children, our children,their children and generations to come,
their genes,their name we will forever carry on.
Like the King and his Queen,
their story will eternally be re-told,re-written and re-read.
A legend together forever they will be.
And tonight,
i salute them,
not with a R.I.P,
but rather with an L.L!
LONG LIVE Joseph and Lucy Ng'ang'a.

Oh!A quick one,
to answer your question,
given the chance,
would i choose different parents?
a different life,with a different and better ending?
NO!
The answer is no.
I can never trade my parents for no other!
I would still choose them all over again.
You see,
though i miss them too much,
i love them even more.
I adore them with every fiber of my being,
and i celebrate them with every breath that i take.
And this,
this is my story,
this is my life,
this is my happy ending.