The Lucky Ones.

Pain and Heartache

I watch them in the park,

The Lucky Ones.

Whose parents hug them tightly,

and wipe faces with thumbs.

I am jealous of them all,

with their happy little smile.

I wish that I could take their place,

and have them be me for a while.

I watch aghast as they get angry,

staring dumbfounded as they scream.

"I hate you, Mommy. Go away!"

all over being denied ice cream.

I wince inside myself,

braced for their punishment they'll get.

But it never comes done,

nothing like the pain I've met.

I watch as they cry,

screaming I don't want Burger King.

I wait for them to be hit,

smacked or kicked... SOMETHING!

But it never does,

and I feel sick inside.

Why does their happiness grow,

as mine slowly died.

I love to watch them be dragged away,

finally treated like me.

All the while complaining

and saying stop I have to pee.

Then they disobey again,

and run off towards the swings.

Slipping away from their parents

and jumping off of things.

Then finally they get caught

and I watch them cry.

Their parents pick them up

saying tell your friend goodbye.

They bound over and hug me

I squeeze back a little too tight.

Wishing all over again

that I could be them for one night.

Too have mommy hug me

and daddy shower me with love.

Bedtime stories and warm cookies

for their little dove.

But instead I must go home

to face my papa's fists.

While momma drinks to ignore my cries,

and cigarette smoke settles in like mist.

Then I wish anew and once again

that I was like other daughter's and sons.

That daddy and mommy would change,

But i guess that's just for the Lucky Ones.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Its about children who are abused looking at other "normal" kids and wondering why they can act out without being punished and wishing they could lead their lives. Basically its about being grateful that you have parents who care enough not to beat or mistreat you

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nightlight1220's picture

YOU WROTE IT!!  Oh it's

YOU WROTE IT!!  Oh it's really very very good. See this poem has potential to be so healing, because there the little jealousies of a child who is shackled in the way abused children are, turn into big jealousies unless they are seen, which I note from your files, you understand how society is D.E.A.F. Oh, Yashi...I like this a lot. I like,


Then I wish anew and once again

that I was like other daughter's and sons.

That daddy and mommy would change,

But i guess that's just for the Lucky Ones.


Really makes you think about what 'fair' and 'equal' rights are, doesn't it? Is it possible to attain? What is 'equal'?


Great, Yashi.

...and he asked her, "do you write poetry? Because I feel as if I am the ink that flows from your quill."

"No", she replied, "but I have experienced it. "


DazedByLife's picture

Thank you for the initial

Thank you for the initial idea! I love writing poems about the less fortunate whether they be children, drunks, or drug addicts. I "love" you could say showing how these children are misunderstood and try to use my poetry to represent them in a way. And society truly is D.E.A.F to these issues. I'm glad someone understands where I'm coming from!