I wrote this today when my parents were yelling at my brother, I don't even know what he did wrong anyway..
This is written in my brother's POV: (He is 4 btw 😢)
I try to compromise, Whatever that means, Compromise,
I try to understand, Why your rage goes up to the highest skies..
I try hard, To see,
What TRULY makes your misery,
What do I get in return?
A yearning for rage, Yearn, Yearn, Yearn,
Oh no, Oh, Great. How'd I make you angry this time?!
Do I have to pay? Ok, I have a dime..And um, Nothing else, Just a dime.
No, When I try to help,
You hit me, Sometimes literally, Sometimes physically, To make me yelp,
Even when it's not physical, Your words still cause pain..
Even when I cover my ears, Unstrain..
They still hit me,
It still hurts, And no one can see,
Words are a type of either loud or quiet misery,
I'd rather hear a bird outside keep going, "Chick - a - dee dee"
Well, I guess that's the end,
Already? Even if I dislike writing, I cannot comprehend this, Comprehend,
So,
You made us break. S l o w l y , But painfully, Now can you go?
-My brother, Ethan, 8/19/2020, Wednesday.
Last edited on: November 21st, 2020, Saturday
YOU ARE READING
Dear parents...
Poetry*This is discontinued, just leaving it up :). This may be updated once in a while tho:* ~~ 𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚛 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜... Hello! Welcome to this book.. I hope you are willing to take a quick peek or look, Before you venture on, Into the depths of our...
