 |
 |
 |
| |
Bottled with love
Light glares down
A mother cries
A newborn is found
In a mothers eyes
Soft and sweet on
Breast lies; babies feet
Could she have known
At this moment, there
Would be no joy?
Did she smell of
Filth, the day I was born?
Did she breath these
Fumes, that I would
Later consume?
Stale walls, bright lights
Comfort and warmth;
Void at first
Sign of life
Rejection of love; my
mother drank
How could she reject
Babies eyes of blue?
A bottle she chose
I hope she didn't breast
feed what she
chose to do
Her bottle she sucked,
Regurgitated she fed,
molted with fear, she
gave it freely, refusing
to see; her disease
Infectious,
Shooting flames at me
Want to comment on this Poetry?
Sign up to Edit Red and you will be able to comment on Poetry and get access to: Upload your own stories and poems, get readers and their feedback, promote your work...
|
 |
|
[Back to top]
|
|
|
|
| Absolutely amazing! So deep, so touching, so beautifully written. I did not have such pain with my mother, but other things I did suffer by her hands. This poem is inspiration for me definitely, to consider writing of my own past demons. Thank you for sharing this poem. |
 |
Comment by: GLWard - 2006-04-04 19:31
|
|
| Wow. That's about all I can say. Just wow. You never know... it might just reach someone who needs to read it. |
|
|
I was a momma's boy growing up. I only admit that here because it's hard for me to relate to this poem, though your writing brings this thing that i've never experienced and makes it so real that I feel as though i've lived through it. I can sense and feel the shattered dreams and indifferent love.
It's beautiful.
Mel |
 |
Comment by: - 2006-04-02 12:50
|
|
| I can't say anything else except for your other comments you had already. I can't find the perfect word to describe your poem besides sad. People will think I'm too young to undertsand such things that they have written about, perhaps i am...perhaps i'm not. in a way i think i have gone through what you have gone though....in a way. i feel honored to read your poem |
|
|
| OMG, this poem was thoroughly impressive. First off, it starts with the birth and the fact that there should be joy, but there is none-ouch, that in itself hurts. Then only to see where the bottle was chosen instead of the life of the child she just brought into this world. brought a tear to my eyes...very excellent piece! |
| 1 2 3 Next |
|
 |
 |
 |
|
|