YOWO Scholarship
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I am from farmers and teachers
From too much to drink and the pain that comes from it
I am from many snowmobilies
Heart racing,
As we fly down trail after trail,
My father and I.
You lay for hours on end
Waiting, waiting, in the prison that is your bed
Your legs, weak from disuse, no longer bend
You are a tiny skeleton, the breathing dead
The sun rises, I wake up,
the dread sets in.
The voices swirl, I push them down
deeper, deeper, til they are just a wind
blowing back my hair that everyone tells me
is so beautiful.
Women in my family dream of gentleman
tender and loving but fall for brutes
whose vice like demeanor asphyxiates
our self respect
Who else will love us?
We demand
Parents become the children
Act out, slam doors
Say stupid stuff to each other
Dad moves
Family disintegrates
Custody battle
Financial hardship
Fighting over who gets the TV
Do you still care
Since I know you don't believe
You could say "there's no angel
Watching over me"
But that's where you're wrong
I know your faith may have died
But I'm still your angel