Don't you dare cry, you're not allowed to.
After everything you have put me through,
You should be happy that you don't have to
Be ashamed of your now dead daughter who
Could not be herself in her own home
And in all her struggles, she was alone.
You kicked her out just because you could not
Fathom that love is love, no matter what.
You claimed she was too young, too innocent
To determine something this important.
It's ironic that she was too young to decide
Who she loved, but not too young to commit suicide.
But don't worry, your child will no longer
Pose a threat to that dear reputation of yours
That you valued much more than your daughter.
What kind of cruel parents would rather
Bury their dear daughter than accept her?
Are you proud, mother?
YOU ARE READING
The Chaos
PoetryWelcome to the chaos of my mind. A collection of original poems by me. "A poet is, before anything else, a person who is passionately in love with language." -W.H. Auden "That was her gift, she filled you with words you didn't k...
