My Dreams Of A Different Mother….

dreaming1

My mother is a junkie, strung out on crystal meth.

I don’t know who my father is; my mom thinks it was Seth.

My brothers, John and Jack, I am raising on my own.

I am only nine years old but I am often home alone.

What I wouldn’t give for a mother not like mine;

one that doesn’t work the streets or smells like sour wine.

I know she’s out there somewhere and not just in my dreams.

She tucks me in at night and quiets my nightmare screams.

But for me, it’s gangs and crime and poverty in the hood.

I’ll probably die a horrible death, but I would change things if I could.

I don’t make the rules of law and those that do don’t care.

They punish me for trying to live, the cops are everywhere.

When I came into this world, I was born to a junkie whore.

And those that think I’m worthless, every one of them knows the score.

I will never get to grow up or make something of myself.

My dreams of a different mother, I’ve placed high upon a shelf.

So when I am on the news for getting shot for stealing bread,

you’ll just say that I’m a thug and you’ll be glad that I am dead.

Written by,

Shelby I. Courtland

©2015 Shelby I. Courtland

 

 

 

 

25 thoughts on “My Dreams Of A Different Mother….

    • I thank you so much for that most enthusiastic comment on this one! It was most definitely straight from my heart! While so many people are wishing everyone, “A happy mother’s day,” I wanted to bring everyone down to earth about this reality for too damn many children and it need not be this way, but it is all done by design.

      Again, I thank you!

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    • HLJ, I must admit that after I had written it and I read it back, the tears just started to flow. I should not write what makes me sad, but it refuses to remain hidden and must see the light of day. Would that life was so different from this for so many. But alas, I can only tell their story in the only way I know how.

      Thank you so very much for your comment!

      Like

  1. Pingback: My Dreams Of A Different Mother…. | Tales from the Conspiratum

  2. Shelby dear, there are N number of kids all around the globe with same tale tell and same dreams to share, much more is needed to be done.

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  3. Shelby, N number of kid all over the globe have the same tale to tell. Nobody is doin anything for them or much more is needed to be done. Keep up the spirit 👍

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    • Thank you Kreng Jai! You are right that this could be applied to children all across the globe. Many have lost their mothers, not just to drugs but also thanks in part to wars started by the U.S. or have lost their mother thanks in part to drone strikes and other hellish situations that this hole has unleashed on unsuspecting innocent people.

      I dedicate this poem to the children of the world who know such suffering when they should NOT! It would seem that “suffer the little children” means literally, “Suffer little children!” I despair of US.

      Again, thank you for your comment!

      Like

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