i need to find a poem about a girl hit by a drunk driver written to her mother?
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I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said\nYou told me not to drink, Mom, so I drank soda instead\nI felt really proud inside Mom, the way you said I would\nI didn't drink and drive, Mom, even though others said I should\n\nI know I did the right thing, Mom, I know you're always right\nNow the party is finally ending, Mom, as everyone drives out of sight\nAs I got into my car, Mom, I know I'll get home in one piece\nBecause of the way you raised me, Mom, as responsible and sweet\n\nI started to drive away, Mom, but as I pulled onto the road\nThe other car didn't see me, Mom, and hit me like a load\nAs I lay here on the pavement, Mom, I hear the policemen say\nThe other guy is drunk, Mom, and I'm the one who'll pay\n\nI'm lying here dying, Mom, I wish you'd get here soon\nHow come this happened to me, Mom, my life burst like a balloon\nThere is blood all around me, Mom, most of it is mine\nI hear the paramedic say, Mom, I'll be dead in a short time\nI just wanted to tell you, Mom, I swear I didn't drink\nIt was the others, Mom, the others didn't think\nHe didn't know where he was going, Mom, he was probably at the same party and I\nThe only difference is, Mom, he drank and I will die\n\nWhy do people drink, Mom? It can ruin your whole life\nI'm feeling sharp pains now, Mom, pains just like a knife\nThe guy who hit me is walking, Mom, I don't think that's fair\nI'm lying here dying, Mom, while all he can do is stare\n\nTell my brothers not to cry, Mom, tell Daddy to be brave\nAnd when I get to heaven, Mom, write "Daddy's Girl" on my grave\nSomeone should have told him, Mom, not to drink and drive\nIf only they had talked to him, Mom, I would still be alive\n\nMy breath is getting shorter, Mom, I'm becoming very scared\nPlease don't cry for me, Mom, because when I needed you, you were always there\nI have one last question, Mom, before I say good-bye\nI didn't ever drink, Mom, so why am I to die?\nThis is the end, Mom, I wish I would look you in the eye\nTo say these final words, Mom, I love you and good-bye\n\nThe Driver (Choose a reader)\nYour life was taken by my mistake,\nWhen I think of you, I start to ache,\nI have remorse for what I've done,\nI've been to AA meetings, I haven't missed one.\nI don't live for myself; I live in your place,\nI stand here now only by God's grace.\nWhy it was you, I don't know,\nThere are so many feelings that I cannot show.\nI'm sorry for that night, I'm sorry for tomorrow,\nBut most of all I'm sorry for the sorrow.\nI will think of you each and every day,\nI guess I'm sorry, is all I wanted to say.
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How about "One Last Cry," by Brian McKnight?\nSee links below:
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This isn't it, is it?\n\nWindow Shopper\n   \n \n  I stood before a candy shop\nWhich with a Christmas radiance shone;\nI saw my parents pass and stop\nTo grin at me and then go on.\nThe sweets were heaped in gleamy rows;\nOn each I feasted - what a game!\nAgainst the glass with flatted nose,\nGulping my spittle as it came;\nSo still I stood, and stared and dreamed,\nSavouring sweetness with my eyes,\nDevouring dainties till it seemed\nMy candy shop was paradise.\n\nI had, I think, but five years old,\nAnd though three-score and ten have passed,\nI still recall the craintive cold,\nThe grimy street, the gritty blast;\nAnd how I stared into that shop,\nIts gifts so near and yet so far,\nOf marzipan and toffee drop,\nOf chocolate and walnut bar;\nImagining what I would buy\nAmid delights so rich and rare . . . \nThe glass was misted with my sigh:\n"If just one penny Pop could spare!"\n\nAnd then when I went home to tea\nOf bread and butter sparsely spread,\nOh, how my parents twitted me:\n"You stood for full an hour," they said.\n"We saw you as we passed again;\nYour eyes upon the sweets were glued;\nYour nose was flattened to the pane,\nLike someone hypnotized you stood."\nBut when they laughed as at a joke,\nA bitterness I could not stem\nWithin my little heart awoke. . . .\nOh, I have long forgiven them;\nFor though I know they did no own\nPennies to spare, they might, it seems\nMore understanding love have shown\nMore sympathy for those vain dreams,\nWhich make of me with wistful gaze\nGod's Window Shopper all days. \n\nRobert W. Service
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awwwwwwwwwwwwwww, thats so moving ..i cried like a baby...bless you..i'm sure your mom knows what a beautiful poem you wrote.....HuGs
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Mom and Dad,\nI’m living in Michigan with uncle Ray.\nHe and aunt Terry said I should write\nor I should phone\nyou. I just don’t have that much to say.\nSee, I’ve been bartending about\nthree nights a week. It’s a stand-up joint\nand they’re good to me.\nAnd I skateboard most all the time,\nexcept for the cards that Ray and I play.\nYeah, he’s the only friend I’ve got\nin this place. Still, it’s better than\nWichita.\nTerry, she’s fine. She wants you to know\nshe’s wrote a song. She’s picking up\nwhere she left off. She’s bringing it back\nbecause it’s been years since she’s tried.\nGod, has it really been that long?\nMom, I’m sorry; I was wrong.\nDad, I’m sorry, because I just couldn’t stay in\nthat town, where everyone knows everything\nabout me.\nMichigan’s all right;\nstill I haven’t found a love.\nJust want to be happy. Love, your son.\nJust try to be happy. Love, your son.
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Nice poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Now, to answer your question, between me and either of my children - no contest. They get everything.
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I am and here is my story to all those who are in pain and need some hope in your lives.\n\n"Dead Alive; my story"\n\nIntroduction: \n\nThe next few paragraphs is a bit graphic at first but I want the truth to be told; because I believe there is someone out there... maybe you or \n\nsomeone you know that needs to know that you are not alone. I originally wrote this in a mental hospital after a suicide attempt. The first \n\ndraft was over twenty two hundred hand written pages long. I had to condense it here. So you might need to take this story slow and try to \n\nread between the lines and for some of you; reflect on events in your life and see if you can see yourself in my life somehow. Our conclusions \n\nmay never be the same; but my intent of this document is to save your life or someone you know. I can tell you from personal \n\nexperience; other people's lives have changed as the result of reading this essay. If you are on life's ragged edge; and are standing on the \n\nedge between life and death... then listen to one who has been there... for many years. I am no longer a victim. I am a survivor.\n\n\n\nI was raised in a large English tutor in the rolling hills of Kentucky. We lived a short distance south of Cincinnati with woods, fields, trees, \n\nponds, streams; a playground any kid could ever dream of living in and yet... \n\n\nMy parent's world seemed not as happy as mine was. I am not sure exactly how things started to change. But I vaguely remember when I \n\nwas about six; dad scaring us kids when he'd fall asleep while driving the car. Sometimes he was sick and would vomit all over the floor. Over \n\nthe years; mom developed a nasty temperament. I vividly remember her pulling us kids around by the hair. We received daily lickings with \n\ndad's leather belt. We probably deserved it but if we truly were innocent; then she'd tell us that it was for something that we got away with. \n\nWe never knew when it was coming. When dad came home from a long day at work; mom would scream at him to do something about us kids \n\nand he would hit us too. Dad gave us "love-taps" as he called them. Our bodies were covered with welts and cuts. If that weren't enough then \n\nI received black eyes and the rest of us had our hands pushed into scalding hot water if we got caught stealing food. Every time I got beat; I \n\nlearned to disassociate from it; to numb the pain. I didn't feel the pain as much if I pretended mentally to be an "outsider" peering in.\n\n\nPeople around us noticed; some called the cops, but when I was younger we didn't have the child abuse laws that we have today. Most \n\npeople would look the other way. And we were constantly warned not to tell people what went on at home or something worse would happen \n\nto us.  As each year went by, I got harder and meaner inside. With all the beatings I received; I never once was hugged or told that I meant \n\nanything to my parents. Nothing hurt worse than all the screaming insults hurled at you. I think the things they told us hurt worse than the \n\nsting of the lashes. Mother would scream; "I wish you were never born. She would tell us how rotten and worthless we were. It seemed that \n\nnothing ever made them satisfied. We gave up trying to please them; I avoided them as the result of fear of future reprisals. Mom would get \n\nout this black handkerchief and tell me that my soul was as black as that rag before God. She would tell us how angry God was at us for \n\ndisobeying them. I lived my whole childhood believing that no one could be trusted. Not even God. I was seven when mom penetrated me\n\n with her finger; hooked it and pulled out bloody flesh one day in the bathroom. Bright pools of blood splattered on the floor. It was my first \n\nencounter with molestations; with more to come later when I was a run-away. \n\n\n(I learned years later from my grandmother; that she thought mom wa
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I agree that <http://www.100words.net/entry/read_member_batch.cfm?entry_member=Laura%20A%20Hill&entry_batch=November&entry_year=2003> is the only site that talks about this poem.  Don't try pinkmonkey.com and the other sites.  I couldn't find the poem comments in their results.
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"The Waitress" by Jane Siberry\n\nClick here:\n\nhttp://www.smoe.org/nbh/lyrics/nbh/waitress.html
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I was looking forever for bicurious thanks for the joke.\n\nEye on the T.V. 'cause tragedy thrills me.\nWhatever flavor it happens to be like..\n"Killed by the husband",\n"Drowned by the ocean",\n"Shot by his own son",\n"She used the poison in his tea\nand kissed him goodbye".\nThat's my kinda story.\nIt's no fun until someone dies.\n\nDon't look at me like I am a monster.\nFrown out your one face,\nBut with the other.\nStare like a junkie into the T.V..\nStare like a zombie,\nWhile the mother holds her child.\nWatches him die.\nPleads to the sky crying:\n"Why, oh why?"\n\nCause I need to watch things die... from a distance.\nVicariously I live while the whole world dies.\nYou all need it too - don't lie.\n\nWhy can't we just admit it?\nWhy can't we just admit?\n\nWe won't give pause until the blood is flowing.\nNeither the brave nor bold, or writers of stories told.\nWe won't give pause until the blood is flowing.\n\nI need to watch things die.. from a good safe distance.\nVicariously I live while the whole world dies.\nYou all feel the same so..\n\nWhy can't we just admit it?\n\nBlood like rain come down.\nDrown on grave and ground.\n\nPart vampire.\nPart warrior.\nCarnivore and voyeur.\nStare at the transmitter.\nSing to the death rattle.\n\nLie (4x)\n\n(Background news headline)\n\nCredulous, divest your desire to believe in\nAngels in the hearts of men.\nPull your head on out.\nYour head believes it give a listen.\nShouldn't have to say it all again.\nThe universe is hostile,\nSo impersonal.\nDevour to survive, so it is,\nSo it's always been.\n\nWe all feed on tragedy.\nIt's like blood to a vampire.\n\nVicariously, I live while the whole world dies.\nMuch better you than I.
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Well Ness I believe that sundae_mornings is right but know what I can help U! Here is an alliteration.\n\nSally and Samuel saw that Susan was sad. Sally and Samuel said oh my, she seems shocked and sobber. I wish you sister could shine her day said Samuel. Their friend Shay shared their simpathy for poor Susan. Sometime soon they would see Susan smile and shake. So Sally and Samuel with the help of Shay squirmed and sat in the side walk while they found a solution for Susan's sadness. They were seriously worried to see Susan begin to spin. Suddenly a boy in second grade who saw Susan so scared stood next to her shadow and as she began to shout; Sally, Samuel, and Shay spied that Susan was shaking and shrinking in size. Susan then screamed when she spot her friends spying on her. Susan ran so fast past the swings until she got out of the street. Sally, Samuel, and Shay were behind Susan until she stopped in a school and said want to know why my stubborness and sadness? Well Saturday and Sunday night, Sandra my snail died, so as soon as the sun falls I sincerely will sorround her with sand.\n\nOk Ness I have finished my alliteration poem. I hope U like it. If U want U can use it unless U want to make up your own.\n\nGood Luck my friend!
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Try http://www.flamingtext.com
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John Michael Montgomery- The little girl\nHer parents never took the young girl to church\nNever spoke of His name\nNever read her His word\nTwo non-believers walking lost in this world\nTook their baby with them\nWhat a sad little girl\n\nHer daddy drank all day and mommy did drugs\nNever wanted to play\nOr give kisses and hugs\nShe'd watch the TV and sit there on the couch\nWhile her mom fell asleep\nAnd her daddy went out\n\nAnd the drinking and the fighting\njust got worse every night\nBehind their couch she'd be hiding\nOh what a sad little life\nAnd like it always does, the bad just got worse\nWith every slap and every curse\nUntil her daddy in a drunk rage one night\nUsed a gun on her mom and then took his life\n\nAnd some people from the city took the girl far away\nTo a new mom and dad\nAnd kisses and hugs everyday\nHer first day of Sunday school the teacher walked in\nAnd a small little girl\nStared a picture of Him\n\nShe said I know that man up there on that cross\nI don't know His name\nBut I know He got off\nHe was there in my old house\nand held me close to His side\nAs I hid there behind our couch\nThe night that my parents died
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www.plagiarist.com has pretty much every poem by any popular poet.  Check there!
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I remember a similar poem from Peter Opie’s The Lore and Language of Schoolchildren, published in 1959:\n\n"One bright day, in the middle of the night.  Two dead men got up to fight.  Back to back they faced each other, drew their swords and shot each other.  A deaf policeman heard the noise and came and shot the two dead boys.  And if you don't believe this lie is true, ask the blindman, he saw it too."\n\nalong with:\n\nOnce upon a time there were two skunks; one named In, the other named Out.  Now when In was in, Out was out.  And when Out was in, In was out.  Well, one day, Out was in and In was out.  The Mother Skunk said, "Out, go out and bring In in."  So, Out went out and brought In in.  The Mother Skunk asked, "How did you find In so quick, Out?"  Out replied, "In stinked.".
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u can go to lovingyou.com to find the love poem. it's have alot of them there.
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Go to Poetry.com and there's a contest you can enter there :)