Broken home
Lonely house
Sad girl
Crying boy
Is this the new America?
Is this the land of the free?
Where families barely talk
And children grow up without love
Where parents only love their kids if are like them
Where kids drink their troubles away
This is the new America
This is the land of the free
Passed out mom's in cars with screaming babies
Children with black eyes
Daughters with bruised skin
Sons with scars
This is our reality
This is our world
This is our legacy
{m}
YOU ARE READING
Perfect Kind of Hell
Poetry'The torture of loving you was addicting You were like a drug that was forever in my veins Your harsh words did nothing but make me crave you more And your cruel hands did nothing but make me want to please you Everyone told me you were hell, an...
