Post by Robin B. Lipinski on Mar 18, 2012 18:00:28 GMT -5
Since birth; pain.
Act of conception was an act of rape,
mothers innocence taken,
her life known ended with the birth,
changing her reason she had others adopt me,
finding joy in others; comfort, stability, a home.
Childhood memories of fights,
scars by bullies with grins...
speeding up now,
this time,
this agony,
this pain.
Through war and turmoil,
through it all it took gritting of teeth,
-------------------------building of armor,
-------------------------no tears, no smiles,
just honor of knowing what life can bring.
Everyone has a weakness,
love,
money,
beauty,
peace.
It was so in this case, a new child, mirror reflection it seemed.
Laughing in play,
toes and arms waving,
cooing at his mother as she baked khubz,
so distant now outside our walls,
this war,
this pain.
Sands swirl around this world,
carrying whispers of dying,
piling high in dunes of misery,
and thus reality rained dry from the sky.
Iraq under Saddam left my family scattered in pieces as the bombs came.
No matter the place,
no matter the war,
the pieces left rotting,
inside the soul and out,
remain the same.
Act of conception was an act of rape,
mothers innocence taken,
her life known ended with the birth,
changing her reason she had others adopt me,
finding joy in others; comfort, stability, a home.
Childhood memories of fights,
scars by bullies with grins...
speeding up now,
this time,
this agony,
this pain.
Through war and turmoil,
through it all it took gritting of teeth,
-------------------------building of armor,
-------------------------no tears, no smiles,
just honor of knowing what life can bring.
Everyone has a weakness,
love,
money,
beauty,
peace.
It was so in this case, a new child, mirror reflection it seemed.
Laughing in play,
toes and arms waving,
cooing at his mother as she baked khubz,
so distant now outside our walls,
this war,
this pain.
Sands swirl around this world,
carrying whispers of dying,
piling high in dunes of misery,
and thus reality rained dry from the sky.
Iraq under Saddam left my family scattered in pieces as the bombs came.
No matter the place,
no matter the war,
the pieces left rotting,
inside the soul and out,
remain the same.