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William Sinclair Manson

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My-Poetry / Writings · 24 May 2017

My Poetry. Torn.

I cannot live like this for long 
not being able to have my own child 
I often dream of what might be 
If I had not been so wild. 
The opportunity came for me 
I couldn't resist this chance 
perhaps this would be the end of me 
a phase, a passing glance. 
Erika was the only life I had known
I couldn't forgive what I had done
her parents desperately frantic
I had to cut and run.
Five years passed Erika now 12
never knew who she really was
I was the only mum she knew
The woman she proudly applauded.
I would have to die with this secret
it tainted me day and night
the pain I amassed from this nightmare
Knowing it was always in sight.
The Police were all over my home 
her father, bewildered in shock
What was happening to my family?
The open door was now going to lock
I did not care for her moms feelings
I was only interested in me
I knew my life would be happy
It's all I imagined it to be.
But now I am alone with my thoughts
in a room filled with bars
I never imagined just how they would feel
Coping with emotional scars.
Erika is now a young lady
living with her real mom and dad
And do I feel ashamed of my crime?
For a while I did not, I was glad.
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