Anna's POV
I vaguely remember a father.
One that screamed, yelled, cursed.
Flung bottles around, here and there.
Knocked around furniture.
Knocked around momma, like furniture.
But sometimes he was nice.
He'd give me toys.
Candy, chocolate, a Kite.
One day he never came back.
"Momma?" I puzzled,
I was only seven. My mother still loved me then.
She tried to change.
Tried. Not really. But she was better.
'Momma?" I tried again.
This time she looked up from the table.
Tears streaming her face,
Like rivers of pain.
"Where's daddy?" I asked. Shy.
"He's dead! Dead! God took him from me!
Not that he was any good...
But he was all I had! Your daddy's dead!"
She screamed.
That was when,
Her hate for me,
Really began.
YOU ARE READING
Goodbye
PoetryAn atypical love story written in poems. What happens when love is torn apart when Kyle suddenly leaves Anna, a girl with her own troubled past? Will he come back? Will they move on? Will they ever forgive each other?
