Writingpoetry

[ Join Free! ]
(No Spam mail)

dotsdots
nav
  • RolePlay
  • Join Us
  • Writings
  • Shoutbox
  • Community
  • Digg Mashup
  • Mp3 Search
  • Online Education
  • My Youtube
  • Ear Training
  • Funny Pics
  • nav



    nav
  • Role Play
  • Piano Music
  • Free Videos
  • Web 2.0
  • nav



    << | >>
    poetry


    dots Submission Name: My lifedots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Star
    ASL Info:    15 F WI
    Elite Ratio:    2.69 - 125/127/42
    Words: 687
    Class/Type: Story/Depressed
    Total Views: 1034
    Average Vote:    No vote yet.
    Bytes: 4262



    Description:
       OK guys i know that this is really long but if you can just bear with me and read it i wanna know what you think


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsMy lifedots
    -------------------------------------------


    Stop, and picture my life for a moment.
    I was 5 years old as I watched
    my parents rolling around the floor
    screaming at eachother and I at them,
    "Stop it, Stop it Your HURTING MOMMY!"
    "Mommy YOUR HURTING DADDY STOP IT!"
    Not listening to their screaming child
    they keep rolling around
    choking, punching, scratching, yelling.
    I watch as my mother breaks
    a thick glass ashtray over my father's head,
    and his reaction as he throws a coffee table
    at her, barley missing her.
    I watch as my father screams,
    "I DON'T NEED THIS SHIT!"
    and walks out, he returned the next
    morning with flowers and band-aids.
    "I'm sorry honey."
    I watch as a few years go by and
    their relationship falls apart.

    I remember hearing somewhere
    that when you move into a new house
    it should be a new start.
    All we did was bring our problems with us.
    The screaming, fighting, and broken things.
    I watched with tears clouding my eyes
    as my father walked out, not being able
    to take the pain anymore.
    I prayed silently day, after day that he
    would come back home for me,
    yet knowing that he never would.

    I watched as my mother started dating again only a month or two after my father left us.
    The men she brought home,
    the one that she stuck with.
    The old, bald, fat, indian, with an eye
    for little girls, and fists that thought
    my mother was a punching bag.
    I watched as my body became this man's toy.
    Wispering things to me taht any 9 year old never wanted to know.
    I remember fingers crawling across my skin
    along with other parts that didnt belong
    anywhere near me.
    I never asked for any of this,
    a broken mother, a non existant father, and a bastard who couldn't keep his hands to himself.


    They say that a new home means a new start.
    Again we brought our problems with us.
    This time we brought the abusive bastard
    which was enough of a problem.
    Not to mention the fact that my mother
    seemed to turn more towards drugs & alcohol.
    I just tried to bury myself into school and friends.
    I became very self concious always
    fearing that I wasn't good enough for anybody.
    A plauge that haunts me still.
    Eventually someone found out about
    the abusive bastard and realized what he
    had done to me and probably other girls.
    The police questioned me, my mother as well, I was given a pencil & paper.
    As if I could ever describe the details.
    I had finally gone numb from him
    and they expected me to re-live everything he had done to me?
    So being a scared child of 13 I was completely vauge on details and only stated the obvious,
    "He tried to put his _______ in my ______."
    Thats all i wrote, I was so scared that he would
    come back for me and my mother, but someone
    tipped him off and he scramed fast, probably off to ruin someone else's life.
    So we were finally free, and I watched as my mother began dating again with not concern for me, just went plunging into another relationship.
    I began to relax and actually enjoy bieng a teenager for a while anyway.

    They say a new home means a new start.
    Well we only had one problem
    this time my mother.
    After the incident with the abusive bastard
    we grew farther apart.
    I felt, and still do, that some part of her
    blamed me for what happened.
    I watched as she grew more and more
    detached from my life, watched her try to
    be someone she wasn't.
    Maybe she doesn't realize the things
    she says cut me deeper and deeper
    each time.
    So the only things i have going for me at the moment are some great friends,
    and a great boyfriend.
    So before you decide to judge me stop
    for a moment and picture my life.





    Submitted on 2005-12-28 01:00:15     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
    Submissions: [ Previous ] [ Next ]

    Rate This Submission

    1: >_<
    2: I dunno...
    3: meh!
    4: Pretty cool
    5: Wow!




    ||| Comments |||
      I like the repetitive parts -

    "They say that a new home means a new start."
    It makes the overall impression of the piece much stronger, and the impressions of the different situations you were in, always with the same start.

    I don't mind if there isn't a rhyme, this way everything has a sort of confessional tone to it.

    Also, I like the beginning, and the end for the same reasons as Boom Boom mentioned -

    "Stop, and picture my life for a moment."
    "So before you decide to judge me stop
    for a moment and picture my life."
    You're "speaking" directly to the reader and catching his attention, making him to think about what he's going to read and what he has just read.
    | Posted on 2006-01-05 00:00:00 | by olut ja leipa | [ Reply to This ]
      I didn't quite catch the rhyme scheme but you had some well placed words which really catches the readers attention and somewhat forces them to do it...example in the last verse

    "...before you decide to judge me stop
    for a moment..."

    That was really cool...Maybe you should experiment with that more...

    Hope my reveiw was helpful :)
    | Posted on 2005-12-28 00:00:00 | by Boom Boom | [ Reply to This ]
      Wow. I am completely blown away.. I love poems that are about real life experiences.. That makes it so much greater.. I know I can never feel exactly how you've felt.. & Im so sorry you had to go through that.. Noone should eveeeer have to!! But I love this! Good job

    <3
    *randa*
    | Posted on 2006-09-03 00:00:00 | by Randa04 | [ Reply to This ]


    Think Feedback more than Compliments :: [ Guidelines ]

    1. Be honest.
    2. Try not to give only compliments.
    3. How did it make you feel?
    4. Why did it make you feel that way?
    5. Which parts?
    6. What distracted from the piece?
    7. What was unclear?
    8. What does it remind you of?
    9. How could it be improved?
    10. What would you have done differently?
    11. What was your interpretation of it?
    12. Does it feel original?



    85790

    Be kind, take a few minutes to review the hard work of others <3
    It means a lot to them, as it does to you.


    Google
     


    poetry

    dotsLogindots

    User Name:

    Password:

    [ Quick Signup ]
    [ Lost Password ]


    January 10 07
    131,497 Poems
    Posted

    I have 14,000+ Subscribers on Youtube. See my Video Tutorials

    [ Angst Poetry ]
    [ Cutters ]
    [ Famous Poetry ]
    [ Poetry Scams ]



    FontSize:
    [ Smaller ] [ Bigger ]
     Poetry