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Poems On / About BROTHER  8/4/2015 2:24:42 AM
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This Isnt A Poem, But A True Story

t he screams echoed down the hall way. my parents fought all the time.

i couldnt do anything but take my little brother (5) , sister (3) outside to play. I was only 6 at the time. They didnt understand but i didnt like them to hear it.

It became more and more violent, my mother never was home, she was out gambling all our rent money, and my father didnt no how to look after us. My brother and sister cried for my mother everynight, i told them it was ok and they eventually fall asleep.

After a couple of weeks, my mother returned, she had bruises and marks all over her body, she was skinnier than ever and she looked like she was on drugs. I had a close look at her and she was pregnant. dad was in shock, but let her in, even though dad had a girlfriend.

Life was the same, the fighting, no money, no nothing, just us children hearing the worst, eventually one day i heard mum scream louder than usual, i walked in the room too see my dad holding her off the ground against the wall, ready to punch her. i said, ' dad what are you doing? ' he turned around and dropped mum and came over to me, with tears in his eyes he cuddled me.

Dad left that night, and thats when things got worse.

Mum had the baby, she was really good with him, but i had to look after my other brother and sister.

The house was a pigsty, there was no food, our clothes werent washed, i was ment to be going to school by now, but i didnt i stayed home and helped out around the house and looked after everyone.

mum became really sick when i turned 9, and at this stage i was enrolled to go to school next year. This was the hardest time, my father had gone, my nan and pop were on holidays for a year and my mum was sick. I took care of the kids the following year, this time i did everything. i even walked down the street to get food or go to vinnies and ask for food vouchers. Mum used to hit me if i didnt do anything so i guess i had to. When i turned 11, I was no at school, but i became very run down and anorexic.

I had mi-graines all the time and i couldnt work because my bones where so tiny. Lucky i got better only for my family (siblings) although I was in hospital for 6 mnths and after that, my brothers and sisters where gone.

My brother was in foster care, my sister was with my nan and i was with my mum and baby brother. i went back to school after all this happened, and became the A+ grader student, and was very smart for my age.

When i turned 12, everything changed.

My mother came up to me and had a talk about all that had happened, she told me about the drugs, the man, and she was so lucky to have me help her, she then said we will go live with nan and pop. Dad came back, and we saw him every weekend, my brother and sisters where so happy and back with mum and me.

In the end, my mum picked up her act and did what a mother should do.

My brothers and sisters are older now, and they still dont no much about it, but ill tell them one day, when im ready.
Ashlee Cornell

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No, he may not always wear the right clothes or have the best hygiene,
But he's my brother.
No, he may not always say the most intelligent things or speak clearly,
But he's my brother.
No, i may not always be the nicest to him or talk the best about him,
But he's MY brother.
He's my brother, and no one judges him but me cuz we've only got each other.
I'll be there for him and he'll be there for me.
Cuz we're brothers.
rob cook

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Drinkin' in the cemetery, laughin' and reminiscin' on all them

All the parties we used to have, all the weed, the beer, the liquor, the cash.

Goin to the river to shoot off the straps-remember the time i fell on my ass? You had to pull me out of the river-we had to laugh.

Just getting drunk and blowin' some smoke, what about the time we helped that girl that was bein' choked? Her man thought he was bad 'till he saw the two of us he just ran.

We had some good times, brother i'll always remember that. And when i catch that vato that just had to blast I put that on the West brother i'll have the last laugh.

We livin that gangster vida and one of these days you'll get that chance for your son to finally meet ya. I love you, brother. Thats on the real. Hasta la muerte i'll be packin' my steel.

Just know you ain't forgotten. I remember you once said, ''if I die, I dont want my body in the ground, to start rottin'.'' We had you cremated. we know you would have liked that. still to this day, brother, i'll always have your back.

For my brother Randy Herrera (Monster)
scrappy garcia

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Being A Black Male....In 2012

..... Why as a black male I feel so underrated even from my own brothers.. Maybe it's because we call each other nigga because we are to ashamed and ignorant to comprehend that they were Once enslaved by the very word NIGGA.. My brother, far down your ancestry Your great great dear aunty watches over the ashamed.. and disgraced.. the very freedom she earned through all of her pain I promise you If she could she would lynch you by your own chain But she won't.. Hurt like stepping on a thumb tack Failed education because marijuana became your new colon Blacks dropping out of school to chase a street dream We all suffer trying to get whips and chains But I can bet your great aunty suffered from the same thing Don't be clouded by the smoke from the black Remember brother you black and the education you need that In slavery they were afraid to educate a black man Afraid of what vast secrets can be released I stand before you today Asking are we ignorant and enslaved as we were a 100 years ago Are we bound.. Chained from light like a caged dog on a Sunday night Why, why did we give up or dreams, Dreams of becoming strong educated and free Education was always the key Or maybe society advanced so far and made it seem like we were locked out But in reality we have become too weak to pick up the key But why Why are we so weak? You tell me, what time, what season and who allowed us colored people to follow knee deep in our own sorrows where we allowed our dreams to be strangled by the root of evil, Which made BLACK choose to play Russian roulette with their lives Instead of educating each other, and themselves...
Ron Poetry
Ron Poetry

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Poems On / About BROTHER