Printed from WriteWords -


by  jocat29

Posted: Monday, May 10, 2004
Word Count: 119
Summary: Not sure whether to call this poetry or flash fiction. A little amending can turn it into one or the other.

Bitch! My mother is a right bitch.
I can't believe I've been saddled with such a whore for a mother.
Always shagging around with no idea who my father is.
She' at it right now, it makes me sick
She never learns

She was out shoplifting again yesterday in Victoria Wine.
I overheard her bragging to her mate on the phone about the bottle of Gin she nicked.
I gave her a right kicking for it
But she never learns

There she goes again - A long, hard draw of the cigarette.
I punch her, hard but she never learns

In a few months time I'll be out of here.

And I'm going to be a right little bastard.