Poem - Screwed - Angel - Hard To Swallow My father wrote this poems in prison.

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SCREWED:

 

I stumbled and fell when I was a pup

I het my head hard when I tried to look up

There was a foot on my neck holding me down

And Uncle Sam smiling is what I had found

He said your going away son for a very long time

Guns are illegal if you?ve committed a crime

You can?t have bullets not even a knife

Is that marijuana? Hell now you?ll get life

It?s five years for each bullet and ten for the gun

That?s a thirty round clip if I was you I?d run

When I shoot you for running if your still alive

Well add escape to your charges and add on five

You don?t want to hear this I know it?s a drag

People get twenty years for an empty dope bag

And if I?m not mistaken what you?ve got there is pure

That?s at least half a gram of that I am sure

All the things that you own will be confiscated

Your house and your car it?s all drug related

I know you feel helpless there?s not much you can do

Oh! If you have kids we?ll be taking them to

But I?m not a monster or even a tyrant

You just have to cooperate and be less defiant

Sell out your neighbors and tell on your friends

Put them in jail and this nightmare will end

You?ll get back your kids your car and your house

Take the family to Disneyland and see Mickey Mouse

Your almost related if you think of it like that

Well your not quite a mouse but you would be a rat!

 

 

 

ANGELS:

 

I believe in angles and that they are around

Protecting us from lightning where ever clouds are found

They shelter us from heartache and deliver us from pain

They warm us in the winter against the driving rain

 

Yes I believe in angels as I?m sure you do as well

If angels come from heaven then I must come from hell

I showered you with anger and hatred everyday

I flooded you with sorrow and washed your love away

 

I didn?t believe in angels when the devil had my soul

I bruised and broke an angel but that never was my goal

These words are bitter memories and poison on my lips

Farewell to my salvation my angel I shall miss

 

 

HARD TO SWALLOW:

 

I live on a diet of guilt and regret

Marinated in a sauce of I just can?t forget

 

Covered in heartache and smothered in shame

Sprinkled with lies and a whole lot of blame

 

I wash it all down with plenty of tears

That haven?t run dry after all of these years

 

I fix every meal and prepare it myself

Knowing damn well that it?s bad for my health

 

I?m hoping one day I?ll have eaten my last

And choke on vomit I call a past.

 

I did not make any of these poems but my father did.

[Fractured.Logic 0]

I'm not usually a fan of strict rhyme patterns, but I found your father's work very expressive. It is my opinion that poetry is best when it truly communicates the emotional investment of its author.Please pass along my admiration of his writing talent. I hope he is someone that you consider to be an inspiration, despite the hardships that may have interfered along the way.