Mom.

My mother has Manic-Depressive Bi Polar Disorder and her actions have caused my family to turn their backs to me and I am now a homeless teen. I wrote this about her and the way she says things.

I may swear, but God still loves me.

You can't swear, you'll go to hell.

I'm an adult, I can have a drink.

I'm an adult, I can sink.

Don't tell me how to be

You're too young

You don't see

What's around me

I'm not bi-polar

You're patronizing me

There aren't two sides to me

I just get angry

I'm too sick to move

Yet I have no symptoms

I'm not sick in the head

You just want me dead!

I have a problem

I have an illness

I want to get help

I want to fix this

I never said that!

You're putting words in my mouth!

You filthy LIAR

You s****y little sprout

I am your mother, I know what's best

You're not my daughter, you dreadful HAG.

I hate you, you disgust me!

I love you, please come back.

Reviews

[Carrie.]

What doesn't kill us screws with our heads. That's why we write. Good job, the poem's simplicity is exactly what you needed to push the meaning through.

[micky]

God....im really sorry but these things are the s**t that make us strong keep going...
Well done:)