Dark Room

In this dark room, nothing but soul touching music and air blowing in the eardrums. 

I see things that was supposed to be behind me, like the past, and the evil inside me.

In this mind, is a trip to hell without the lake of fire, but  filled with sin and demons.

Nevertheless, a good man inside of me, but never had good men around me.

I guess gender dosen't matter how to raise one.

In this room, this dark room, is gloomy, frightening, filled with voices that the ear can barely take.

Memories comes out of nowhere like a projecter turning on.

I see my whole childhood life like a movie, laughs, tears, and sorrow in a young boy's life.

In this hell, the ghetto, wanting to be a "N" word instead of a black man. 

Try for others than hiself.

His mother was his protection, and teacher, but don't know her own path, as a woman, a wife.

A Strong woman is my mother , a heart of Mother Teresa.

But I've seen selfishness in her that I never seen before as a child, but he was there for her.

Sr., I hear things about him, horrible things, and saw things that I've never seen before.

Everywhere he went, I went, I was the right hand as they say...

Darkness was in his life, and as I witnessed .

Now I'm horrified and terrified like I saw my mother staring at my father's steel barrel. 

I saw the gun and I was still as a stone.

As my mother tell me to go back to my room, I went back.

I stood there in confusion, why didn't I hear a bang?

Or a scream?

As a child it was more scarier than anything else.

This child I'm watching , is was Ignoring in my life as I grow to forgive and forget?

As I wake up, its an nightmare in this Dark Room......

 

Comments

Additional Resources

Get AI Feedback on your poem

Interested in feedback on your poem? Try our AI Feedback tool.
 

 

If You Need Support

If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741