March 17th, 2010
Open Question: What is the theme of this poem?
mama told me a horror story when i was just a lil youngin,
and yes it involved monsters, and killings, and guns,
but it wasnt your ordinary horror story that you hear when your young,
it was about the reason she left cambodia and had to run,
to different countries like thailand, my fam almost didnt make it,
but motivated to stay alive, they made it to the station and waited patient
as their homeland was raided
by their own people self devoured by evil,
cowards who try to empower the country we called ours,
and after hours and hours of murders it was time to get outta
the place, get over to the states, at least we can be safe,
because the combination, of human condensation and decreasing population,
made a proper statement, that we will not make it,
alive if we try to surive here in the eyez of a devil
the odds are incredibly slim,
so the next step to go is the west some mo,
at least we can rest but never forget the rest of whats left and the deaths of family members,
including grand daddy, he didn’t make it because the mind he was blessed with
and the heart he possessed, too smart for the rest so they took him away,
and til this day, mama doesnt know if he’s alive or in a grave,
but calculating the ratio of those who survived and the percentile of how many are alive,
most likely grand daddy is one of the 1.7 million or 27% of the population who died
~daddy told me a horror story when i was just a lil youngin,
and yes it involved monsters, and killings, and guns,
but it wasnt your ordinary horror story that you hear when your young,
it was about the reason he left cambodia and had to run,
the monster was pol pot, the killings were endless and the guns blasting everlasting,
see daddy had a heart problem and couple younger brothers and sisters
and a loving mother assissted by a knowledgable and wise father who loved to preach and teach to reach the minds of his fellow people,
but remember, education was equivalent to execution,
and that consisted of starvation, a round of bullets in your body, your head to a tree, or electricution,
because they despised the evolution of their people so their solution was to execute them,
but with a mindful of knowledge and the wisdom of a farmer,
he proceeded to take his family farther away from all of the pain as possibility and determantion would allow him to,
now being temporary residents of a jungle and sleepless nights caused them to wish they could sleep and dream of life,
and see the light, that was once given to them,
then that dream blurs, and they’re reminded of the nightmare that occurs, within a few miles away,
finally became fellow inmates at a refugee camp, and made it to the USA,
because daddy had a heart problem and needed a good doctor,
came to the famous mayo clinic here in Rochester,
but it still sends chillz down my spine, knowing that the mountain of bones
could have very well been one of my own,
how can you walk with a smile down an isle of skeletons of men women and children
civilians, knowing those are your own people and you killed them,
they couldve been ya uncle, aunt, neice, nephew, cousin, or mother,
or even your father, sister, or brother, your own flesh and blood,
instead you feel refreshed by the sensation of eliminating the blood out of the flesh of your own flesh and blood
how can u sleep with yourself knowing that you ruined lives of many,
cuz if you kill even one individual, you’re causing pain, suffering, and agony for the family,
so actually, the casulaty of that one individual can be defined as a tragedy,
see this attempted geneocide of generations helped open my eyes to the revalation of my family and what we’ve become
and to have the knowledge of why my parents really are so proud of me, likewise, i’m so proud to be, their oldest son
