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The Villian / The Hero


Author: SmoothePapa
ASL Info:    24/m/FL
Elite Ratio:    2.65 - 55 /90 /16
Words: 401
Class/Type: Poetry /Serious
Total Views: 1520
Average Vote:    No vote yet.
Bytes: 2366



Description:


This poem is based on a true story. So this poem is for those who can relate or know of someone who has been in a similar situation.


The Villian / The Hero



I was brought into this world as an infant child
no questions, no solutions, just only a smile.
Started to learn a little at the age of about four ;
By five I was drinking asking daddy for more.
At six I was playful, at seven same thing.
At eight I began to use my beautiful brain.
At nine,well that's when the problems began to start.
Let me take a deep breath because this hurt my heart.
As a child you see your father as an untouchable figure ;
capable of no wrong, no mistakes, no slip ups.
But at this age of nine I found out the truth.
Yes, he makes mistakes,but his wasn't a few.
His self proclaimed status as an honorable pastor,
went from Amen to a considerable laughther.
The integrity, the trust, the respect all bailed;
especially the day I saw him half naked with a girl.
I stood in the hallway of our very own house.
enraged by his deception to his children and spouse.
I swore to tell my mother as soon as she got home.
But he knew that I had seen him,and beat me until the thought was gone.
He's the Clone of slothful, the President of neglect,
the Commander of hypocricy, the General of disrespect.
Claimed he was a man,but could'nt take care of his own
had sex with a fifthteen year old, she wasn't even grown;
and to make matters worse she stayed under the roof of our house. Gullible to deception from that sneaky little mouse.
I'm angry, I'm upset, I detest what he did.
Sleeping with a child or better yet, still a kid.
My mother of course felt the very same way,
which led to a divorce, and us moving away.
I'm twenty-four years old now
thinking of having my own wife,
and just for the record he's missed fourteen years of my life. That's o.k. still I was raised very good.
we moved out the suburbs and move right in the hood.
Should I regret it? Should sweat it? I don't think so.
Life circumstances helped this young man grow.
Thank God for my mother who took on both roles as a parent; and love that she bestowed upon her son is apparent. So as long as I live, I will let the whole world know. My father is a villain, and my mother a Hero.




Submitted on 2005-04-19 14:40:26     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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Comments


  APPLAUSE, APPLAUSE . . . quic pass the kleenex . . . . .!
As inspirationing as this poem is it has also gotten me feeling all so quilty about constanty complaining about a dad (who comparing to your's is the king of patience, love, respect). I marvel at the way you treasure your mother and realise what she has done 4 ya.
Nadia*
| Posted on 2005-05-23 00:00:00 | by AfricanPrincess | [ Reply to This ]
  Ok, this was an absolute amazing write. I loved how you wrote about your childhood. I wrote something new, that bothered me, you should check it out.. something that deals with something differant, but drugs and drinking.. or just a lil..

But it takes guts to write something like this. i know when I wrote the thing I did, I was shaking.. Maybe you didn't shake, but I guess sometimes people tuffen up, or so I heard.. but I know its painful, I can't imagine something like this.
I love this
Bravo

stephanie
| Posted on 2005-05-12 00:00:00 | by XxStephyxX04 | [ Reply to This ]
  This is a great write. I can see someone using this as a rap. All and all it is sad though. Thank god my father wasn't like this. Still here for me...although i'm only 13. I respect him though. Someone who treats you like that doens't have the right to be respected. From your writes I can see your personality...yah yah I see a good one at that. Guess your mother did a good job rasing you and other siblings. I'm adding this to my favorites list. I can see where x is going on the format...but no biggie there. I like your style.

Much love to ya,
Mikki**
| Posted on 2005-04-22 00:00:00 | by MiKkI25 | [ Reply to This ]
  That was a great read, and the story is something I think many can relate to. I myself have experienced the same loss of respect for my father. Okay not exactly the same, but quite close. My dad beat my ass too; however, mine didn't do it because I caught his infidelity. Nope, he just did it because he could, and he was pissed off. So I can most definately relate.
It was a beautiful poem; fix the format, and it will be even better.
~Trinity~
| Posted on 2005-04-22 00:00:00 | by Trinity | [ Reply to This ]
  The emotions that seep from this post are just so damned overwhelming...how hard it is to watch what was once an idol fall from that pedestal...makes the hurt even more consuming when it's a parent.

Seems as though everyone else has already pointed out some flaws so I will not be a critique echo...Can't wait to see if your other posts are just as powerful with emotion...
| Posted on 2005-04-21 00:00:00 | by Brownsdelight | [ Reply to This ]
  it was soooooooo slick. effortless would be a good word, but NO, slick fits it. i agree with X on the smalls errors in format, but w/e, its fya. i can't say that i've been there, but i've had moments where my mom was there where my pops wasn't. read my pieces Dad Machine and Iciols, u might see sumthin u can sympathize with. welcome to ES.~nahlij
| Posted on 2005-04-19 00:00:00 | by Aknahlij_d 1 | [ Reply to This ]
  NOW THAT'S WHAT I'M TALKIN BOUT! Spit it boy!

This was extremely well done! *clapping* You are coming on the scene hard ain't you? Got the gansta lean...pimp walk...poppin your collar.

You have definate talent. Keep it up and I'll be committed to reading.
| Posted on 2005-04-19 00:00:00 | by Munchie_1226 | [ Reply to This ]
  Okay...Of course this is tight because it's a family thing. Collier connection. Fix your format dude. You have new lines starting on the same line as the previous one. Once you do that, this will be once fine piece....



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| Posted on 2005-04-19 00:00:00 | by xtremegentleman | [ Reply to This ]


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