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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1376778-Nobodys-Son
Rated: 13+ · Prose · Personal · #1376778
1/99 Trying to establish my place in the world.
It's hard trying to be a man.
Never harder.
Some worlds turn,
do a slow burn.
Look to the left and to the right
but there's nowhere else to turn.
Search for stimulants
with lack of parental consent.
Life had no concept
at 17
left with self-torment.
Never had a father to grow up with,
just to grow old-
stale-
while mom left me out in the cold.
Nothing's harder,
only having hope to make me stronger.
Now fighting my fight
all alone.
Dogs in sight but I'm still at home.
Stepmom tries to share strength from within
but can't discipline.
So free am I to roam
but only going from home to home.
Broken
glass in place of bridges burned.
Trying to erase my life cycle
but the format
changed with my stepbrother Michael.
Little man
rearranging my plan.
Love that kid like my own. Tandem.
14 years separate but do not dilate.
For awhile he saved a tougher fate.
Still harder.
Life in its forgotten form
keeps getting darker.
Coming to grips with reality
is static from a transistor radio coming at me,
wanting to be the whole sound system.
But still no one misses him.
Does it make me smarter?
None the harder.
As big as I get I still falter.
Can't be a pal
to my rears that I thought or wanted to know so well.
Superinterdependent
yet irreverent.
Never asked to be so malcontent.
Tried to adjust
but love in my heart makes that bubble bust.
Hello lust.
Always the wanter
but the house never is shelter.
No shoulder to cry on.
Leave a light on
but no welcome in daytime.
Stick to nighttime,
alone in the backseat of a car.
Not the idea of a superstar.
Lacking support to go far
from whoever my parents are.
Going on, never harder
the roads I've taken
led more toward heartbreaking.
Me or her, no more trust.
Advisory never had a place when my head sees disgust.
Grew up to so much hidden contempt
and couldn't gain respect.
So I was and shall be independent
like July 4th but I was the first
born on the 31st
so I wear the 41.
The first son.
Wanton, forgotten, downtrodden.
Long gone.
So many stages
different people in this story made mistakes in.
I'm left behind to face that wrath.
Never harder
but I still walk that path.
Combine my smile with my behavior
and maybe I'll need a savior.
But no quick fix will remedy
the schemes inherited by me.
Couldn't give props to my real old Earth;
kin only by birth
because her love had little worth.
Ate the bitter end
and this I comprehend
but I digest with uneasy hands
and refuse to make amends.
I won't be sorry for the errors before me.
Some never were around
but still wanted more of me.
When I bit the line I choked on the noose.
When I tried to cut loose
I was split like a runaway caboose.
No sad tales left
or tears of regret.
Just let me get my teen years over with.
Now ripe at 23,
still don't always like what I see.
But in life there's no guarantees.
I'll have to leave it up to my seeds and me
so I don't entrap them
into the same kind of hell my childhood was back then.
I'll fly with the obvious
and spread my wings righteous
so my children will have a better life
without all the ruckus.
Never will I leave my son
like I was somehow forgotten.
Bastard and rotten,
no forgiveness from the unwilling undaunted.
It's so hard to be "a man" these days.
But these days aren't the same as always.
Fight off regret so I don't forget
but I was no accident.
So what if I was unplanned?
That never meant I had to be so damned.
Through life experiences I have risen smarter
but those times are departed.
Still never harder.
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