Title undecided, just like me.
A canker sore on the lip
of my lifeÖ
Blood is relative.
Loyalty the truer test.
Donít be late for dinner.
Main course of cruelty to digest.
Straight home from school.
No hugs or loving greetings.
Itís metal coat hanger day.
Commence the daily beatings.
Take your ass outside so we can drink.
Nothing out here but bullies and whores.
Iíd like to kill them all I think.
Burn their bodies and make some símores.
So much for family ties.
The ropes are in the basement.
By the time I was nine years old,
I was moved into foster placement.
In the system for eight long years.
A little good, mostly bad.
Learned to fight, fuck, and face the fears.
A little happy, mostly sad.
Eighteen years old, so time to bounce.
Multiple disorders without a doubt.
Love for family? Not an ounce.
I can never let that hatred out.
Many decades later now.
Iíve survived a halfway life.
Most fears are gone, Iím not sure how,
and I still hold the knife.
A toast Iíll give for the written word.
That has taught me how to feel.
Iíll dance a while within this dream,
for the hell Iíve lived is real.