Poetry – Child Slavery

Maranda Russell

When I was a kid,
I would buy my parents cigarettes,
I would lie for them,
I would steal for them,
I would deliver their meals,
I would pick up the debris
after explosive arguments,
then I would nurse their wounds
(both emotional and physical).

I was a servant,
pasting on a fake smile
while hatred and rage
bubbled within
at my slavery.

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About Jonathan Caswell

Mr. Caswell has been composing poetry at least since High School. He has been on WORD PRESS for ten years and contributes to two other blogs beside this one. This blog has a Christian emphasis but all bloggers are welcome. Mr. Caswell chooses to---with permission--re[post material of interest

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