UGLYHOOD.

2 Comments

Poem Commentary

this comes from a lot of sorrow anguish and many years of pain which only now  have started to give way to healing .... i am stronger for it .

UGLYHOOD.

Dear mother how sweet u look

in veil of ivory white,

With  bouquet of  red

to hide the thorny prejudice,

that fills ur heart  inside

 You words are laced with sweetness so pure

the undertone is grim

How hard u try to hurt me so

with  malice so steeped within

I waver I crumble at ur feet

not knowing what you do,

Ur hideous face in scheming wake

still hidden,from my view

I bend I break and mend again

for u to break me still

you call it love ,I thinks it love

 ur words don’t hurt me till

I realize from years passed by

 my wound is bleeding dry

I’m watching shadows in the dark

they scare me and I cry

I ache I ache my body hurts

my mind is destitute

how have I been,so very blind

unto my  uglyhood

yes that is what I call it now

for that is what it was

those days have since long gone by

but left me bruised and scarred

I want to fill this great big void

under my flesh so deep

And now I know I cant stop the blood

I,cannot even sleep

How did u leave me so alone

when I was what u are

Buried within a 9 month womb

u were my solace my mother

Did u once care to look inside

and vanquish those demons I felt

The ones that bruised my shattered strength

and made my life force ebb

into a corpse so brittle and torn

you left me here die.

“Mother Mother”how strange the word

it fills me with comfort now

when I hear my child he speakes ,

it sounds differently somehow

You have not been nor could u be

the one that protected me

For all u did was live ur life

I swept up your  misery.

I scrubbed and cleaned and scrubbed again

my skin peeling from my  soul

I tried to make me one again

a complete and conscious whole

But nay I tell u it did not work

it failed me yet this time

I’ve seen through u your tattered view

and absolution of crime

You were to me  a most beautiful

queen most precious from above

there was a time I’d give anything

to be secure in your love

but that was then and this is now

u did not answer my calls 

i’ve somehow survived this birth this life

i built up my broken walls

I find no door, no warmth ,no hearth

to keep me safe and sound

all that i see is a broken bridge

a tattered view of love

You will not accept and still don’t concede

your blood it has gone cold

You are infact my vial of poison

with which I will grow old

I will not retract my  fatal truth

nor bend will I to ur bow

I weep for u I hurt for u

but  feel no sorrow now

Oh go away u wretched thing

my uglyhood now my state

and leave me mourning a childhood lost

the mother of a child was my fate.

Poem Comments

(2)

Please login or register

You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
leave comments/feedback and rate this poem.

Login or Register

Kdaddy commented on UGLYHOOD.

09-17-2009

This is deep and sad. I know it happens, we hear of it happening and somehow it seems to fade away unwanted. The realism you put to this is haunting and lingers. Well written.

dragon8

09/18/2009

thank you so much i needed to write this at the time it was my way of self therapy ....i don't mean to mean to her i just needed to write this and it helped me sooo much

Lolee commented on UGLYHOOD.

09-17-2009

This amazes me. The depth of pain is obvious. Some parents have no idea how much damage they do to the ones that the are supposed to love. I had a good father but he was not very interested in me.......huh.......that's as bad as it got for me. He was always there for the seven children he brought into this world. He and my mother both treated us well. I just cannot relate to such deep, deep pain. I am sorry for your loss...of love. Life is so unfair.

dragon8

09/18/2009

thank you lolee.....i am sorry for the fact that u even felt a little discomfort i know what it feels like and children are so sensitive ..parents just overlook that some times ...but im so glad u liked the poem i wrote it 5 yrs ago and never thought anyone would like it ......

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.

Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

dragon8’s Poems (2)

Title Comments
Title Comments
inside me 1
UGLYHOOD. 2