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Turning Into My Parents
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January 2011 The ink in the pen kills,
the lines in my book support me more,
than a steady job does for steady bills,
even more than who i dated before.
Together i ran with Bulls like Deng,
sprinted from any drama,
smoking was never my thing,
now i don't even talk to my own mama.
Used to jump in puddles,
now i jump off bridges,
Dale had too many couples,
Roy had too many ridges.
I'm trying to be me,
trying to be calm,
cyphing too much weed,
turning out like my mom.
Think enough to be crazy,
ever since i was had,
weed brings silence and makes me lazy,
turning out like my dad.
Very poignant read!
Very interesting account and great use of verse I enjoyed every stanza and that you had the courage to admit you were becoming like your parents! In many cases it's not a bad thing but in this poem the reader is not sure... I like that! Great read cheers SS
Don't let any one shake your dream stars from your eyes, lest your soul Come away with them! -SS
"Well, it's love, but not as we know it."