Isolation within my cold- hearted “home”

My mother, brother and father alike;

No words or conversation; just body language shown.

The slamming of cupboards and crashing of pans;

My mother’s around but I still feel alone.

Seclusion to a dark room; how old is he now?

My brother only known.. through his drums moan.

Never home, my father’s job as his life;

Is he avoiding us? A bond not existent; no ball ever thrown.

“Life is not good unless you make it so”

Children at school pretend to have life right.

Chased down the street with shouts “you’re gay”.

Forced alone every second there is no “I might”.

I will not go play; I will not talk;

I will not give up but i will not fight.

Lay on the floor myself and my crayons.

With my head in a drawing is where it seems light;

Yet it never fades and will never go away.

The burning of loneliness only at its shortest of height.

Sinus issues always there; no stop.

Mothers unloving care and dads “treatment”;

Thousands of X-Rays and making my neck pop.

Always told I was good until the next wave;

Each worse than the next. I needed medicine; no shop.

We were poor but I needed real treatment;

These the worst highlights, bottom; not top.

What came left me crippled with fear...

A “growth” on my neck as it started;

Two surgeries because the first was fail.

They took my vocal chord; now quiet as ever.

I did not know why; until I read a letter from mail.

It was really cancer being hidden from me;

Left me torn.  How could my parents be so shale?

Later to find out it was even worse;

My fathers cure from x-rays was at fault so i bail.

The cancer caused by my dad; I left.

However death is never a joke.

Proved to me very young by my grandmother.

She left my step-grandfather in smoke;

The housefire put her in the mental hospital.

He was the only family I liked; the only one who spoke.

A good guy, everyone in town was a friend;

But for some reason she locked him in and left him to choke.

Death is a consequence given to everyone; good or bad.

As time passed I gained success.

I found happiness however surprise comes;

A call from my father; my mother was in the hospital.

Old age was doing her in; she was having the least of fun.

I saw her one last time; neither of us could talk.

Irony; she died that night, wheres this blindside from?

Never expected for it to be like this; she never loved me.

Yet, I could not help but reminisce and cry some.

The realization that death awaits us.