My voice has returned
Now, when it is too late
I realized that I was not adored as a child.
My mother had long ago beaten
the confidence out of me.
She pounded Bodies
Yelled at Cries
Suffocated Dreams
Pummeled Aspirations
Lynched Creativity
and Silenced Rebellion.
She pounded Time
Until the echoes of silence
resonated only within an adolescent mind.
She pounded Minds.
While her negativity dominated me
without the smallest ounce of compassion
“Shut up stupid”, “You ain’t gon neva be nothin’”,
“I neva wanted you!”
She pounded Life.
And I was forced to bloom out of season,
years later than otherwise.
She always told me that she never loved my dad,
so how could she love me?
“I am not him!” would not be heard.
That phrase choked with my larynx.
I could only show her that
Fire can light ways and burn shit down….
And still She Pounded.
by
MG Hardie
September 22, 2010 at 9:47 am
It’s sad that kids have to grow up in homes like this. I always wonder, “where are the fathers”?.
PEACE,
Shay
September 24, 2010 at 7:13 am
Notre Dame’s Luck as Dead as Its Ghosts…
I found your entry interesting thus I’ve added a Trackback to it on my weblog
…
September 24, 2010 at 10:17 am
first post
September 24, 2010 at 3:12 pm
It is sad that so many children have & still are being raised by empty women. Too many women are raising children they did not really want. It would be one thing if they got real & accepted the role. However most begrudgingly do the task with halfhearted commitment to the children they’ve chosen to bare. And while most of these same women would disagree with me I challenge them to really dig deep within to answer why then would they destroy what they nurtured for 9mos. Why psycologically tear it to shreds. Why physically beat it lifeless. It has produced the broken lost souls that so many of us are today
October 11, 2010 at 6:46 pm
Powerful. Potent. Painful…
October 11, 2010 at 7:34 pm
Too many babies have died a slow painful mental death by parents who should have opted out of parenthood. Their state was captured best by Sean Puffy Coombs who called it “having a trifling mental”. The filters of their minds are forever askew because of abuse. Great depiction my brother.
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