Very Bad Poetry

It was in Fort Worth she gave birth,
A baby boy, Bobby was born.
The youngest of Five.
And a momma who thought,
Would interrupt her drinking and sex drive.
It was her excellant choice.
To dump all of us into a orphanage.
Who's idea of instruction was,
If they beat you hard enough,
Long enough.
What they wanted would sink in.
It was where I found out that.
Niggers and black people,
Weren't the same thing.
Niggers tried to beat me to death.
But a black person rescued me.
Miss Stone my black momma.
She would hold and comfort me.
When no one else would.
I don't know why she did.
But to this day I would kill for her.
She was the only one to ever love me.
A white man tried to abuse me.
My black momma fought him to save me.
She kicked his ass.
But they sent my momma away.
The very next day.
Her offense, trying to protect me.
I didn't understand that being black made one wrong.
I didn't know what a pervert was.
Hell, I didn't know what my penis was.
I was to find out and I hated God.
Miss Stone came back to see me.
And told me not to hate God.
For people that hide behind God.
I wanted so bad to go home with her.
Another matron told me,
A white boy with a nigger that will never be.
I promptly attacked her.
And she beat the hell out of me.
This work is for Miss Stone.
My momma the only one I ever knew.
Miss Stone wherever you are.
Your God couldn't have possibily,
Loved you more than me.
rlh

note; Miss Stone, thank you.
Though it's been years.
Momma, I miss you. Bobby

Robert Hawkins has published 2 more terrible poems since joining on 30/11/99. Read more of Robert's terrible poetry at the anthology. Here are three of Robert's latest works: