Hey You!!!
You with the sign,
and the C-4 in your pocket;
Your righteous indignation camouflaged
only by that Cheshire cat grin.
Before you exact your toll on me,
Sentence me to my plight…
Walk a mile in my shoes.
I am a crack baby, born with A.I.D.S.
I am poor, adopting parents object
to the color of my skin, and I cry a lot.
I am the shameful bastard child
that reminds you of your indiscretion.
I am born to parents who not only hate each other,
but also hate me, because their one night of pleasure
resulted in a lifelong taxation.
I am neglected, beaten, raped, and abused,
as I am left in the competent
hands of the foster care system.
Your tax dollars guarantee
I receive my share of suffering.
You seek to make your religion everybody’s law!
How could a loving God condone this kind of torment?
I wish for you a swift and final reckoning…
That your private hell begins
with living out all of the lives,
of those you sought to bring forth
into an unforgiving world
where they were…
Unwanted!
a Heart on the matter 
Powerful poem, Dani.
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Thank you Jen. That means a lot. I get pretty fired up about this subject and I just read a guest post that made me want to post my poem again. 🙂
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Crying.
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ty. It means more than I can say that my words effected you that much. Hugs
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Really, really intense poem sweet Dani. Kinda at lost for words here! 🙂
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Yay!! Commenting via my phone works!
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Yay!
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It’s a tough subject I know sweet TJ. I have very strong emotions around it due to my own birth circumstance. Thank you so much for reading. Hugs..
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