Xillus_Xavier
10-17-2007, 09:37 PM
Ok I am trying another style I found in a poetry book today...not my normal style so forgive me if I butcher this.
Some Slates Are Not As Clean
Two newborns lie beside one another
In their little hospital beds one day.
One baby is beautiful and serene,
The other prematurely born and frail.
The peaceful child, he smiles as if he knows
That he belongs to a wealthy couple.
He smiles as if he knows what lies ahead:
Always being loved and taken care of,
Receiving every toy he ever wants,
Having the greatest gifts on Christmas day,
Getting that fancy sports car he asks for,
Being the most popular person in school,
Getting into a prestigious college,
Taking over daddy's business one day,
Marrying the beautiful girl of his dreams,
And raising his own darling son someday.
The sickly child, he screams as if he knows
That he belongs to a cocaine addict.
He screams so loud because, like his mother
He too needs a fix to make the pain end.
He screams as if he knows what lies ahead:
Always being neglected by his mother,
Growing up without a father figure,
Taking second place to an addiction,
Never getting anything for Christmas,
Struggling at school due to ADD,
Turning to a life of crime as a teen,
Becoming a drug addict like mommy,
And getting sent to prison at twenty.
The rich baby's father watches his child.
There through the window he stands and he beams.
He motions to the nurse to come to him
Then complains to her about the screamer.
He demands that his child be moved away,
Moved to some place where he wouldn't be disturbed.
One child will soon look down on the other,
One child will hate and steal from the other,
But for a briefest of moment in life
Two lives, two "clean slates", laying side by side,
Both of their stories already written.
Some Slates Are Not As Clean
Two newborns lie beside one another
In their little hospital beds one day.
One baby is beautiful and serene,
The other prematurely born and frail.
The peaceful child, he smiles as if he knows
That he belongs to a wealthy couple.
He smiles as if he knows what lies ahead:
Always being loved and taken care of,
Receiving every toy he ever wants,
Having the greatest gifts on Christmas day,
Getting that fancy sports car he asks for,
Being the most popular person in school,
Getting into a prestigious college,
Taking over daddy's business one day,
Marrying the beautiful girl of his dreams,
And raising his own darling son someday.
The sickly child, he screams as if he knows
That he belongs to a cocaine addict.
He screams so loud because, like his mother
He too needs a fix to make the pain end.
He screams as if he knows what lies ahead:
Always being neglected by his mother,
Growing up without a father figure,
Taking second place to an addiction,
Never getting anything for Christmas,
Struggling at school due to ADD,
Turning to a life of crime as a teen,
Becoming a drug addict like mommy,
And getting sent to prison at twenty.
The rich baby's father watches his child.
There through the window he stands and he beams.
He motions to the nurse to come to him
Then complains to her about the screamer.
He demands that his child be moved away,
Moved to some place where he wouldn't be disturbed.
One child will soon look down on the other,
One child will hate and steal from the other,
But for a briefest of moment in life
Two lives, two "clean slates", laying side by side,
Both of their stories already written.