Lonesome Past

Growing up with my grandparents wasn't so great,
Having to hold onto so much weight.
While my mother was at school
And my father acting like a fool,
I only hoped someone could open the gates.

At some point my mother came back,
But there was something that I lack.
When I tried to let out my voice,
She saw it only as noise,
And in return she gave me a smack.

She forced me to move out of the house,
I was running around like a mouse.
Burning plant was used to let herself loose,
Alcohol was her form of abuse,
The pillows were quickly douse.

That's when I began to write letters.
And slowly but surely I got much better,
It helped me let out stress,
Just as much as playing chess,
Happiness engulfed me like a sweater.

Now I have exceeded everyone's expectations,
As they stop and stare at my creations.
They said I wouldn't make it anywhere,
But now they're the ones who glare.
A celebration across the nation.

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