“Parentless”
an original poem by: Axton N.O. Mitchell
You asked me once how bad it hurt…
So bad my father noticed, and he doesn’t know me…
or notice me.
I never grew from that pain… never learned anything.
I could not call one, repercussion a gain.
You were simply another boy to blame.
She left like the rest…
Even though in death, it is not the same,
it hurts, nonetheless.
I will use it to fuel my words’ future fame.
Say it. Don’t spray it.