i was 6 years old
and i plucked oranges from tree after
endless tree
until my fingers bled
but the oozing blood never mattered
-never once would i succumb because
i was too young
i never knew any better
i was only 6 years old and forced to work
like a full grown man four times my age
i remember once the fire ants
they covered the ground like red velvet cake
he stomped up to me
and slapped me back with such a force
it knocked me back and into another time
i blocked the pain with the three stooges
i ducked and covered for the next blow
he pushed me aside and started plucking
from the same tree (i was waiting patiently)
as the fire ants stung him over and over again
Author notes
please don't ask me to explain this poem. It was real and it really happened. i have buried this memory forever. i don't know why the fuck i'm telling you parts of my buried childhood right now other than, it really messed me up and i want people to know that there's love in the world -still. We should all be as lucky as others. Live a child's dream and grow up before we grow old. I still Love Florida, by the way.....just bad memories here and there.
A contest entry
- Common People Like Me (or you maybe) by Snowing Kisses.
1000 points, ended November 7, 8 entries
Gold trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Tell me What you think
Comments
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This is very powerful!! I picked walnuts as an older teen but the true poverty years were
before that period (my family was sort of rescued by one of my teachers!). It definitely makes us stronger and grateful for the things we have I think. This is a wonderful piece you've written. Congrats on very well deserved gold!
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This is hauntingly beautiful .... beyond words.
I can't quite articulate how this makes me feel, but it is oh so oh so oh so very good.
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I cant even comment....because I feel this...and you so intensely..
This is incredibly brave...your author notes say it all....and the love....heaps of it.....im sending some your way now.....catch it big guy
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