Boo-rah
That's my name
From the football game I didn't win
To my indulgence into sin
I won't be gaining any fame
But Boo-rah is my name
Boo-rah
Is what I hear
When struggling to live down that night
When I remember the screaming fight
The broken bottle of Dad's beer
Boo-rah's what I hear
Boo-rah
Is what I bleed
While hiding the tears behind this face
With memories that I can't erase
On mixed emotions I still feed
Because Boo-rah's what I bleed
Boo-rah
That's how I feel
After fighting with my dear old Dad
And making him so very mad
With fists of fire, fists of steel
Boo-rah's how I feel
And as he lay there on the floor
So drunk that he could stand no more
This young boy still felt the pain
Cause Boo-rah is his name
Author notes
I left home a few months back. Tired of being hit. Boo-rah is what my friends call me.
Written December 22nd, 2004
A contest entry
- Pristine Experience by Seraph1885.
300 points, ended January 25, 2005, 3 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 6 of 6
-
Oh Boo-rah... I wish I could hug you much. Take care of yourself. Be sweet.
-
Huh. Damn good write. Angsty without being cliche, I tip my hat to you my friend. As for your situation, wish you the best.
Amanda -
Well written and I hope writing has helped you out.
-
Well written and I hope writing has helped you out. It had a great flow to it and a style all its own. Hope everything works out for you Boo-rah.
-
Good flow... hope you found yourself in a much better space Boo-rah
-
I hope that writing this helped ease some of the pain and that your situation is better now. It is impossible to explain what happens to us sometimes. I just hope you grow stronger as a result. God bless you.
Adding your comment:
1 - 6 of 6
2 old applause
