Learn more about other poetry terms
When we're little our parents choose our names and our future. They want us to have the perfect job to marry the perfect person and to have children They want the best for us
Here I am present, the tiny infats who die, from unfit "Parents". Here I am the Light, the Savior for the abused, so many children. Who am I, you ask?
I never had a father, Even though he was alive and with me. He held my hand when we crossed the street and let me go, When the sky turned black enough to disappear into.
i sat at a red light in my girlfriend's car and yawned. before i could react, she poked her finger in in my mouth and laughed. i remember my dad telling me how he used to do that to my mom when they were dating in college.