J-i-poetry - Simple Poetry Blog

DON’T MAKE COMMENTS ON CHILDREN’S WEIGHT

This is the fucking reason for my disorder

Between 183 and Liberty Church

The spot near the plastics plant,

Bare earth scooped neatly into mounds,

Preparations for a new recycling plant.

Skittering along the debris of a

Previously undisturbed wild,

Before my memories formed.

Eating hot pink clovers that tasted like

Sweet carrots, as mama said they would,

My little brother hopping in the lazy puddles.

This disturbed earth not a quarter mile

From my new home on the outskirts of town,

Our lot barely having grown it's beard of grass.

The newest children in my small neighborhood

(if there are any) Will never know this place

Apart from where their fathers might work

The spot between the 183 and Liberty Church

Where once was trees and clovers

Where once kids scrambled over piles of dirt

Where once all seemed well in the world

Where earliest memories were made

There's no shame in collecting

Pretty things in an ugly world

Prisoners are allowed their pictures

Hoard your joy there, tooth to cheek

Your smiles are stolen secrets

This land does not deserve

One Day Here

It Works!

Bad Seed

A Mockery