Mar 23, 2012


The ballad was a tough poem for me to write, simply because it is a story that you tell. I racked my brain for days wondering what type of story I could tell. Nothing seemed captivating enough to me, and I think that that was what intimidated me. Love stories are no longer an interest to me, neither are historic stories. Nobody wants to read about motherhood, so what on earth was left to write about? And then I decided to just write about some parts of life that I knew.


Look at that house
It's four times the size
Of our little box
I can't help but sigh
Wonder how they afford it?
We barely make rent
Poverty, food stamps
When will it end?

He's cold and he's bald
Just barely hanging on
Cancer hit hard
And soon he'll be gone
She cries and she screams
Praying it's a bad dream
She tries to be strong
When will it end?

Life's an uphill battle
It hurts and it's scary and hard
We're bruised and we're battered
We're beaten and scarred
But we still go on
We climb and we cry
We fall then get up
And then we survive...
Stronger than before.