Everything today was about money or lack their of, even church! Being poor as an adult has taught me alot. Humilty, wants from needs and truly what is important in life. I dont think this is my best poem, or deep...its just a little reminder that I am not in charge.
Mom I want that...his blue eyes already green like mine.
No, we dont have any money...and its an echo.
Through decades of time.
She said no, we dont have the money.
So I said, then I wont be like you,
Nothing like you. Nothing like you mom.
I told God I would never be poor.
I vowed my life to strive to the top.
I told You God I would never be poor!
What have you done? I TOLD YOU GOD!!!
This isnt what I worked for? What are you doing?
Did we not have a deal?
Why would you make me so smart?
So ambitious?
An entrepenuer...AND an bipolar alcoholic?
To what honor is my education?
How to pay loans?
You give me this after all MY hard work?
I want to be independent.
I hate the government, welfare swallowed pride.
Dont want to be sick,
or just work til I die.
This cant be it, must be something on the other.
Side of this.
I just dont want to dream if it isnt real.
Three years of poor,
God may I please have a book deal?
God I wont ever again.
Tell You how it has to be.
I was so young when I said...
No, I will never be "She"
The one with the beat up car...
1967 green Chevy Nova.
And I ducked in the seat.
Poverty cycles, always repeat.
Thats okay I am not starving.
Cold or in lack. In fact.
Filled up more inside, than I ever
Could have known, striving and pushing,
To run far from that home.
My aunt explains the vow I made to God to never be poor like my parents was like taking a rubber ball and throwing it away from me as hard as possible, and since I swore before the Lord the ball hits a wall and comes straight back and hits me in the face. Like a curse...
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