There was a time when only two things kept me afloat.
Music, and Poetry.
When daddy was downing shots and doing drugs,
And the lawyers wouldn't believe mom.
When daddy's new wife beat my little sister with a brush,
I wrote her poems to heal her bruises,
And I wrote them to my brother to take the hand marks from his face.
Mom told them that it wasn't good for me to go there,
That no kid should be living with them.
But they sent me there every weekend,
Or when he remembered to pick me up.
So I wrote the lawyers poems, 
I wrote them poems to tell them that mommy doesn't lie,
And they wouldn't believe her until daddy died.
Then I wrote a poem for him,
Because after all I don't have a dad anymore, as if I ever did.
I wrote him a poem to let him go,
And another for my mom to tell her I'm not upset about it,
I wrote a poem for my best friend who couldn't understand why I was drifting away,
And another for my grandparents who just don't understand.
I wrote one for my teacher so I could let her know how I feel.
I wrote one for everyone to help them to understand,
I wrote one for everyone to help them heal.
And when I was done with all of those
I wrote one for me.