CD (May 9,1984 / USA (Born in MA) (Raised in MI))

03/11/2008 Reality Of Disgust

I place my hands over my face I want to scream,
I wish I could pinch myself and find out it was a dream.
A phone call changes every emotion every feeling I've had,
As soon as I heard my moms voice it was going to be bad.

Every bit of me is shaking my past haunting back,
My emotions exploding everything going black.
Hold my composure hands clinching anger arise,
My brothers girlfriend I'm trying not to despise.

How could a mother be so unaware,
The anger flashes from my past similar to the situation there.
To not pay attention or rather not get help for actions of your kids,
And let them do things that are disgusting which society and everyone forbids.

My mother tells me about this because why?
I believe it's because she knows I won't sit by,
Allow his girlfriend not to do nothing at all,
I pick up the phone this was a ruff call.

Hello protective services I need to report abuse,
The names the dates and places I can produce.
I could imagine the lady just shaking her head,
With every word spoken dark cloud and dread.

Protective services says let me get this situation straight,
13 yr old boy -sister a 5 yr old girl what was the date?
The 13 yr old boy had the little girls panties at the floor,
The 17 yr old stopped the 13 yr old right before.

The phone call turned into over an hour and half,
I told the lady I was calling on my mothers behalf,
My mother couldn't convince to get the child checked out,
Although we think the boy didn't penetrate but there's always doubt.

I'm crying the girl is only five years old,
Her own brother lost questions arise answers will unfold.
I couldn't sit by and let her do nothing that I wouldn't allow,
At least I know these children with get help now.

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 4

Comments (4)

You have addressed a very relevant issue in your poem. Hope the world wakes up, if not atleast the mothers do, before its too late. Thanks.
Not unfortunately an unusual story best nipped in the bud before things get too bad/ I have read some of your poetry with interest You have a natural talent for rhyming but no apparent idea of meter. It is meter which allows your poetry to flow when read aloud Which is in effect the acid test as poetry is essentially an oral art form
yes some times these delicate things need to be controlled before unknowing damage is caused....a strong write.......
Of course disgusting, but nothing can be done!