Growing Up

(It's a comeback to poetry, I've been in a neutral uninspired state lately... Enjoy)

There was Mary, she died when I was three
There was John, he died after Paul, my third sibling
Drove a truck into a ravine to end it all
Then there was Jen, she abandoned me
When I was little, after mother and father passed away
Last but not least there was me
Knocking was never heard on my door
I wasn’t good enough to have privacy
I was always being shouted at
By the age of five I learned to obey
All the shouts of my masters
My masters had taken over the mansion
After my father passed away
He never sent me anywhere nice, just left me here
Nothing to my name in his will…
He never knew what became of me
I was hit frequently in my tight black uniform,
Which made me sweat in the fusty house,
With a buckskin strap as I scrubbed the floors
I was watching the steam arise from the water
On which I combed into the wood
Then somebody entered
And stepped all over my chore
I was beaten to do it over again
By the age of seven I learned independence
I couldn’t trust anybody
Because they all would tell everything
They were liars, cheaters, unfair
They abused me, in a very monotonous tone
I was thin, frail, weak, and would die alone
They always said I would always be alone
Nobody wanted an ugly wife
Nobody who was anybody anyway….
And by the age of fifteen I knew what it felt like…
To be pregnant
It was my only ticket to freedom
My only chance to when it came I took it
The chimney sweeper, a boy of seventeen and me
We left my house
We left my past and we headed anew
Just to wherever the trains would take us

I like this and since I know u this is totally u.

This probably would have been better as a story but the poem fits it too. Good job...

I should write a story about this... hmm... thanks for the idea... COMMENT HERE PLEASE ANYBODY :Echo: I have nice... mittens... and a harmonica!

mm. i dont know. this was okay. =/ uhhhhm. yeah.

Wow. this is a well written and moving poem. your attention to emotion is great and you make a good impact on the reader.
In a way, i agree with some of the other comments. this would make a good story; however, i think what you have done is great.
i would also suggest for you to edit this bit...

'I was thin, frail, weak, and would die alone

They always said I would always be alone'

maybe avoid repeating alone. i dont know if it was deliberate but i think it would be better if you changed it. and also the word 'always' occurs too frequently in that line

hope i have helped. good work!!

Nobody wanted an ugly wife

Nobody who was anybody anyway...


---
i liked the lines above.
i guess because it's a fact.
yeah. it is.

anyway, this poem would have been better off as a story.
i can see the plot forming in my head.
do you see it? *i'm a loony* HAHAHA.


but seriously, i liked the poem.

*Locked*

Threads from 2005 are much too old to be revived, and should be left sleeping peacefully in the depths of the forums. Get out there and review newly posted works!