Tuesday, February 19, 2013
My Reason for Poetry
On the day I was born, I
didn’t know what went on;
just out of my mother’s womb
to ask that of me is really too soon.
What I can say is I’m sure I was crying;
anything else would probably be lying.
It was an early January 13th morn
of 1966 on the day I was born.
The earliest memory that I recall
is having TB at the age of two ya’ll;
two weeks being away from my home
though by myself, I never felt alone.
My bare chest pressed up against a cold metal plate;
told to look at a toy monkey to keep my body straight;
taking x-rays making sure it didn’t reappear and
swallowing horse pill meds for two whole years.
It seems I got comfortable at enduring tribulation;
no matter what it was I could handle the situation.
Developing a calm disposition beyond my early years;
enabling me to bravely cope with my hopes and fears.
Friends helped my mother out during her pregnancy
as my brother and I stayed with their family;
during our stay we realized their house had evil beings;
as young kids we couldn’t believe what we’re seeing.
TV’s turning off and on and things being thrown about,
even with a God fearing family they would still act out.
Worst of all at five years of age I remember vividly seeing
at the top of the balcony there hung a dead human being.
Despite the family saying their aunt was depressed,
with all the happenings going on it made me guess
how would I have felt it that had been my mother;
by doing so it helped me to feel the pain of others.
Looking back I realize my reason for poetry, it’s from
all these feelings I’ve carried around since infancy;
no matter how much I write I will always be torn;
as I was from my mother on the day I was born.
Copyright by NewLife2008