Fireworks - Kelly Bishop
I've not posted here in a long time; which is actually my fault. I've moved to University, started my Creative Writing and Media course (which I'm loving) and on Sunday I turned 20. I feel old. I really do. But I thought that I should probably give you something, seeing as I'm not really up to date with all my reading at the moment.I'm currently taking a few creative writing modules, one of my favourites being Writing Poetry. We were asked to take a minority group and write a poem based on their lives or how we perceive them. This is my take on this brief;
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I left my son my medals,
My daughter my car,
And my ex wife can check for bombs.
Hospital beds feel worse than camp.
People in a room together,
Checked on by those who thing they know.
But they don’t know how I lost my leg.
They don’t know how homeless I’ll be
They don’t know how They’ve ruined me
And They don’t care.
I used to find fireworks fun.
Now they remind me of endless shots.
Of a gun in hand.
Of this pain ending.
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