Fruit of a chance encounter
I was alienated from the beginning
Spent my early years with grandparents
Parents had to work.
Idyllic you may think
Grandfather was an alcoholic
Turning violent when in his cups
Home was not safe
Had to learn quickly
The rules of the street.
Hell broke loose I didn't fit in
Turning ten, moved in with the family
My days of roaming the streets at an end
I wagged school and discovered poetry
Grain of anarchy was seeded that day
In a rebellious terrain
Stayed with me and grew steadily
In that secret garden,
I've only opened the gates.
Lucette C. Bailliet ©
From my blog:
echoingsteps.blogspot.com.au
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