The Youngest Sister

By Peridot

Fri, 23 Oct 2015
  • 1539 reads
6 comments
 

I went to visit my sister two days this week,
and she needs help she aint willing to seek.
I was hugged and told thanks for coming, then i got put out,
I couldnt believe the vulgarity flying out her mouth.
F@#% this, suck that, all while her youngest son could hear,
alcohol aint a friend when you destroying everything thats dear.
I feel bad for my sister, I didnt know she was this way,
screaming, hollerin, fighting, she talked non-stop all day.
Her self has no esteem, value, or worth,
she has got to be existing in a curse.
My mind kept saying a wise woman builds her house,
I dont know how he do it, Lord bless her spouse.

Certificate PG
Poem
Opinion

Comments

Submitted by Philip Sidney on

I like the voices in your two pieces, a slice of life.

Submitted by Peridot on

thank u.

Submitted by Deliberately Ev... on

Interesting piece. I liked the voices too. How they think and express. Made me sad because there are many such families struggling. It's easy to judge but when you hear each story you find reasons why and how things have become that way. People often see a woman making a fuss like that and think "oh what that poor husband has to put up with" without perhaps wondering if he is the cause of the emotional upset. Abuse can be so sneaky and manipulative.

 

thats what I got from your poem anyway.

The beat of your heart is the mellifluent rhythm to my soul.

Submitted by Peridot on

thank u. i agree with u about abuse. im the neutral party, and get to hear both sides, and each of them are responsible for the lack of respect, honor, and love they display. my duty is to the children. they didnt choose this.

Submitted by Bee on

I found your piece both amusingly written and sad, thinking along similar lines to AE. You just never know. But then this woman needs help, if only to spare the kids grief. And her husband, possibly. Stress is a terrible thing - well put over by you. 

Bee

Submitted by Peridot on

thank u for acknowledging the children. it is for them that my heart aches, yearns, and breaks. the addiction didnt happen overnight. the "remember when?" moments are the hardest. the older kids remember a nuturing fun capable shadow of who she is now. she is not ready for the support and change i suggest, but i realize the information is an optional foundation she can build upon when she desires to.