Ruined At Birth
By A.G.
Ruined
From the day I was born
To walk, running across the street
To the sound of my name being called
Almost got hit by the 96 bus
Ruined
From the day I could talk
Scared to ask questions
Because I didn’t want to feel
The belt against my butt
Ruined
From the first day I cried
But no one cared
So I wished I was dead
Ruined
From this day on no longer weak
But strong, mature and ready
To be a changed man and
Not that immature little boy
Born Ruined
3 Comments
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The poets featured here are currently incarcerated, and many of them are in federal prisons far from home. Your feedback is a valuable source of motivation and connection to the outside community. Post your comments, feedback, and encouragement in the space below the poem. Messages will be passed on directly to the author. Comments may not appear immediately on the site, as our team processes them to mail to the poets.
Knowing where you came from can only help get you where you are going. A person’s past can’t define them forever.
God speed my man … may every day be a WONDERFUL 1st day of the rest of your life!!
AG,
Thank you for your vulnerability! I challenge you to consider yourself restored instead of ruined. We must all build on our past in hopes that the next generation will not be “ruined.” You are strong and capable to be the man you have always wanted to be. Keep writing; we hear you!
KC