She’s Hurt

At night she sits, with tears in her eyes.

Recounting the events, that play in her head.

But why does she cry?

How can it be that the love can be so painful.

Love was beautiful, love was ecstasy.

Not screams in the night or arguments, fights.

She relives her mothers life.

How did she get here, what did she do wrong?

She’s hurt.

Blood slowly trickles from her forehead,

As the tears stream down her face.

He was angry, She was wrong.

She’s hurt

Trying to think what to do differently,

trying to think how to make him happy.

She’s hurt.

Part of her wants to run,

Part of her wants to stay.

She’s hurt

“I’ll run to mom”

but she will tell her to stay.

“I’ll run to my friends.”

but they will take him away.

She’s hurt.

Not knowing that love is not suppose to hurt.

Not knowing that she can move on.

Not knowing she don’t need him by her side.

She’s hurt.

Not knowing her greatest weakness,

can be her greatest strength.

Not knowing she can get up and leave.

Not knowing that love is not lived that way.

Just knowing that she has to stay.

She’s hurt.

Knowing it’s going to happen again.

Knowing he’s not going to change.

Deep in her heart she wants that to be a lie.

Knowing she can potentially die.

Knowing she is alone.

Knowing that there is no love at home.

She’s hurt.

Her tears stream like rivers down her cheeks, mixing with sweat and blood.

She’s hurt.

Dear Lord if she only knew,

that you where by her side.

That your hand was stretched out waiting for her to take it.

That you could give her the strength to survive.

That she can stay alive. but…

She’s hurt.

Her strength is gone,

Her heart shattered to pieces.

The bruises, cover her body, cover her soul.

She is broken.

SHE IS HURT.

 

 

 

 

 

 

ARE YOU A CONQUEROR?

Conqueror.

As I sit here listening to this song. I feel the strength, the adrenaline rush through me.

For I know that I am a conqueror.

I have not given up.

I got handed a bag of lemons and I was able to do the sweetest creation.

For I will never give up.

Throw me a stone try to destroy me but you will fail.

For I am a conqueror. I do not give up.

While I live, I will fight, until I die.

I will make my children conquerors as well.

For they have seen the pain and the struggle of our daily lives.

A CONQUERING QUEEN that will not bow her head down to no one.

Only to God, for he has made me a conqueror.

I did not acquire this strength on my own.

I know that I have shed tears but tears of war.

I have shed tears of fear.

But my face has remained the same.

Emotionless.

“life is like a merry go round.”

I truly agree.

“I RATHER STAND TALL THAN LIVE ON MY KNEES.”

And every time I have fallen on my face

I shake it off and get back up again.

I know that I will succeed.

I know that I will fight for what is right.

If you try to put your foot on my face,

careful because you could lose your balance and fall.

All because you are trying to bring me down.

But remember this you can try all you want,

But you will never succeed because…….

I’M A CONQUEROR!!

Bastard

They say that a bastard is a person that has no father.

Well to me you are a bastard.

You are the kind of person that give men a bad name.

Dead beat, a dead beat dad.

A person who cares more about others than his children.

Slimy evil rat, who cowards in the presence of the law.

But when no is there comes out and contaminates everything around him.

Dog, I think I am insulting them.

Because even my dog takes better care of his pups then the likes of you.

Pathetic, a man who covets money and possesions

And does not care if his kids eat that day.

Coward, a man who can leave his children in the cold and rain.

While he covers himself with a warm blanket on a nice comfy bed.

A father is suppose to provide for his children,

be there for his children.

But you, with your actions, make me the most wonderful father that my kids will ever know.

 

The Judge

You sit there in the front, 

With your black robe,

gavel at the side.

I sit here facing you,

at your mercy.

You look at me like if I was the scum of the earth,

When the scum is sitting next to me.

You do not ask

you just point and judge.

You look at me with those piercing eyes.

And scuff at my defense.

You do not know me.

You do not know my children.

Don’t pretend to know that you have been faced with everything.

Because if you ever did.

You would see the true love of a mother for her children.

You would see who is lying your courtroom.

But you let your feelings get mixed up.

And you think that I am to blame.

Not caring for one moment what my kids want.

Not caring at all.

Do you have kids?

Or are you single and in need to get laid?

This so called man has children with other women.

I only have two kids and both by him.

This jerk abused me.

Cheated on me,

Offered my minor brother at the time, drugs.

He has a record.

I have none.

He was never around.

Time and time and again.

Until my daughter cried her last tear for her dad.

Until my son grew up well to know the truth.

And now you sit there,

And you do not want to hear the truth.

I refuse to go on a witch hunt. 

I refuse to focus on vengeance.

I just want to focus on the well being of my children.

I am not a perfect parent,

But I have been there for them always.

Yet you look at me with those piercing eyes,

and shake your bobble head.

You 50’s looking grandmother.

That acts like she never once was young.

That acts like she never made a mistake in her life.

That acts like a perfect parent.

You sit there shining with your black robe,

shaking your bobble head, 

And slamming down your gavel.

Judging unfairly,

Judging unjustly,

Giving him everything that has kept me alive,

Giving him my life wrapped up as a present,

For all the things he has done wrong.

Awarding him because he woke up one day and said,

“Today I think i want to be a father.”

After how long ten years.

After I continuously told him,

“they are young they need you right now”

Now after they are older and never have been with him.

Him, a person who had the nerve to tell his daughter

that she should not hug or kiss him because she was a growing up.

Him, the person who talked shit to his son because he came to his sisters defense.

He is the great father. 

He deserve them.

I don’t understand. 

YOU, WITH YOUR BLACK ROBE, YOUR BEADY EYES, YOUR BOBBLE HEAD

WITH YOUR GAVEL AT YOUR SIDE,

THE JUDGE,

MY EXECUTIONER.