For her...

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Poetry

I committed a crime of what now;
I am judged.

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By killing my father,
For just hurting
My mother for years,
Of all those times,
When I'd come home drunk,
Paying for the broken dishes; she.

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I was in the fetal position,
Covering my ears,
Which was vain,
Trying not to hear
The fights as well
Than the cries of supplication.

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I confess that; I also hurt
My mother's feelings,
By acting that way in taking away from her
something she loved.
Albeit in a masochistic way.

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Part of me;
I was with remorse
On the surface of my skin,
But the other part; no,
Since I saved my mother from the beatings,
And mistreatment.

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Now I see that my mother,
Is crying behind the glass,
Trying to assimilate,
That they will kill her son,
For his crime
In front of her eyes.

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I close my eyes,
So that everything will be faster,
To remember my mother's beautiful smile
On her face.
It was all because of her...

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🍃Thank you for stopping by to read, with that little gesture you help me 😌😊and encourage me to continue writing✒📖, if you like the story, I would be grateful if you would leave me your vote🌟and some other comment 💬 on your part .

Foreign Thoughts  •[#1]Opowieści tętniące życiem. Odkryj je teraz