Standing before his class, he held his tiny report,
“Who is your super hero?” Was written in yellow chalk on the green board.
Exhaling his breath, the curly haired boy closed his little eyes,
“Don't be ashamed of yourself” His mother's words rung in his ears, “And don't ever cry.”
He began to read aloud, with a shaky voice.
to his class, he told his mother's story.
At age fifteen, she was a beauty queen,
the most beautiful girl in all of the world.
She flaunted her silky hair, bore her bare legs,
prided her breast. The boys treated her like she was a treasure chest.
They respected her rules, they “looked, but didn't touch”,
but there was one older man, who from her, wanted too much.
All alone he met her, he approached her in the alley,
and all his mother told him, was that this man had treated her badly.
But what the boy didn't know was that she was taken against her will,
and that two months later, she turned up extremely ill.
A check up at the hospital revealed the worst of news,
revealed that she had a leach inside of her, revealed that in months it would be due.
The boy continued to read, though only what he knew,
he spoke before his class, and his mother's voice cheered him on through and through.
He came in to the world from a broken home,
to a skinny blond mother who was left all alone.
He had his curly hair, she had her golden locks,
he had his dark skin, yet his mother was as pale as a piece of chalk.
Struggling and alone, she worked two jobs,
she fought to stay in school, and returned home after 8 o' clock.
Whenever he got sick, she cooed him to sleep,
and with no money to afford a doctor, she could do nothing but weep.
Daycare was expensive, his was ugly and cruel,
the kids would spread rumors about him, saying, “That kid is evil!”
When the parents came to pick up their kids,
The mothers would hurriedly group together, and hiss, “That's him!”
“I heard that she was forced?” “Why did she keep that thing?”
They would always say, “Poor girl, she was only fifteen! Bet you the monster has the rape gene.”
He didn't understand, what did this all mean?
So the next day his asked his young mother, who told him it meant nothing.
Months went by and she got a third job, and after a while, she secured a stable income.
And away he went from the evil day care, as his mother could afford a better one.
Things got easier, though every once in a while, they asked if he was adopted.
His mother said no, that he was her “baby boy”, and out of the picture, his father was cropped.
Years went by, and she stood on the stage, holding her large diploma.
The tiny boy sat in the alone seat, clapping the hardest in the row.
His mother ran and scooped him up,
she kissed him on the face, and said, “You're my good luck!”
He finished his report before the class, and spoke very politely,
“My mother is my superhero, because she taught me not to take education lightly.”
But what he doesn't know is that without his life,
his mother would have not sufficed her life.
He gave her a purpose after her living hell,
and because of his life, she promised herself that she would excel.
She strove to be a doctor, and a straight “A” student,
but her calling to be a mother became more important.
Late into the night, she taught him how to read,
and though he shared his father's looks, she refused to believe in his “rape gene”.
Curly hair was a new concept with her,
but with books and videos, she quickly learned.
His grandparents would not see him, he was unwanted and black,
and so his mother turned away from her parents, and never looked back.
“Why didn't you abort him?” Her friends would ask as he sat beside his mother.
“Can't you see that he only makes your life harder?”
He remembered his mother spat harsh and nasty words,
never again were her friend's voices heard.
Sometimes he would frighten her as she surveyed his looks,
but she reminded himself that he was her baby, and that he was more than his looks.
She devoted herself to him fully.
Sometimes, she took him to the park, and they watched funny movies.
He laughed like an angel, and was as polite as a saint,
and though she was alone, her son saved her from an untimely fate.
And though she was his superhero, he was just as much her's,
because she proved to him that there could be life after disaster.
The world was their enemy, they would always see him as a monster.
But his mother was his superhero, and would defend him with her all power.
The world wanted him gone, but he would always be her son.
And after years went by, she clapped for him when he reached the podium.
Her parents were absent from her son's graduation,
but the rows were filled with her new family, as a result of her husband.
The two clapped on happily, and were proud of their son,
and as he walked down the podium, into their arms he would come.
The curly haired boy skipped down the stage, he scooped up his blond mother,
and hugged his straight, haired father.
“Thank you for being there,” she whispered in his ear, “Because you're my superhero.”
And with that, the crowds cheered.
There is no such thing as a “rape gene”, that's the stupidest thing i've ever heard. I remember once, I was getting in a debate with one of my friends regarding children born of rape, and she said, “Kids who are born because of rape will grow up wanting to rape others! They should be aborted!” I'm like...hold it...really? That's super offensive and super idiotic, because that's not true. A basic course in psychology will tell you that.
Part of this story I got from my own life story, because my sister and I attended my mother's graduation . She had us right after high school, but still completed college, and is a very successful teacher, so education is something very important to us.
I'm actually in my senior year of high school right now, and unfortunately, my father.(..dad...idk what to call him, he left before we were born, and we haven't seen him since. Idk even know what he looks like) won't be there to see us graduate. Hope he's living it up wherever he is. Can't say i'm too angry at him though, it's too much effort to hold a 17 year grudge. Even a 1 hour grudge is too hard for me.
Also, I wanted to write about how hard it is for mothers to do this, especially with no support, and people thinking that it's shameful to keep their rapist baby's. I for one think it's incredibly brave, and kudos to any woman whose gone through this, because you are a super hero. And kudos to any man whose been able to pick a woman up off of her feet, and foster a child whose been created by such unfortunate means.
And kudos to the kid too.
Hope you liked it! Please do give me your feedback.
This was beautiful.
It was unique.
It was... Wow.
Thank you for writing it.
I believe in abortion strictly for medical and rape reasons, not because there's anything wrong with the child, but that the mother would find it too hard to bare(even if the child would be born mentally of physically handicapped, they should birth it to at least send it to adoption. It's not the child's fault they fucked someone and ended up with a short straw.). As for a rape gene, I do not believe any specific crime is genetic, but I do believe key roles might make it be possible (though nearly impossible, as you can raise anything/one to be kind and loving with the proper care. A neglectful/abusive home might make the child snap, but then again, that would definitely hurt anyone.)
Warning: Science and Philosophy rant!
Mental disorders and chemical imbalances would probably only account for a very small percent of rapes though, as most "normal" people commit murder(only 10-25% are done by people with mental disorders), I'd safely assume the same for rape. Under the circumstances of inheriting mental issues, the child would more then likely just become agressive towards those who isolated and bullied them (possibly fighting, drugs, self-harm... the usual unusual stuff.) rather then going about raping the world. Infact, any chemical dysfunctions might actually make the child MORE protective over women, as they'd associate rape with their own depressions, leading them to be quite the spokesmen.
Unlike with "behavioral" *cough* someone in the comment is a fucking moron *cough* quirks like sitting a certain way, doing a specific task in a specified manor, a child would (HOPEFULLY!) not be raised by the rapist, and thereby would not "pick up" the behaviors. Me and my mom shake our leg a certain way, more then likely because I watched her do it in youth. I have very little in common with my father (he was out of the picture as he was an asshole), but my mom comments I'm 'bull-headed' like him. Maybe that's because I developed a freedom complex (due to bad parenting) and a loud voice? Perhaps because after being isolated and confined within my room, I'd give ANYTHING to escape?
There is a lot more science in this stuff then idiots who somehow learned how to talk know about!
I'm hoping to become a psychologist/therapist one day, and I'm kinda wanting to go into biology as well to learn the inns and outs of the human brain (after all, I might have chemical depression that only medicine could fix, but my psychological depression is definitely something that can one day be controlled. I might feel empty all the time after I get over my actual problems, but at least I won't be miserable. After all, it's only when something is blank and empty that you can paint a beautiful picture. Then again, I guess you could draw over the mistakes and turn them into art as well. Depends on the artist and canvas I suppose.)
Don't let what I said kill you (even if it's only figuratively meant), I only believe it because I've seen it.
I'd feel sad for her, no anger or anything like that, just sad.
Because I feel like they've lost something. Though later on, I suppose I won't feel much emotion towards women who get abortions, if they're not asking for it, though in inkling of sorrow will remain within me. I guess it's better to say I feel sorry for what's being aborted rather than who're getting the abortion.
Your mom is amazing, bringing you and your sibling up and then finishing her schooling! So many people aren't able to do that. I hope you have a great senior year, and keep up the beautiful writing. It's touching heartstrings as we speak.
Your story just makes me so very happy! I've never been for abortion in any circumstances, partly because I believe that a baby is a life, and that it has potential! So I'm so glad that your mother decided to keep you and place you in a loving family. It's also pretty neat that you're still in contact with her, as many of my friends who're adopted aren't in contact with their bio-families, and they feel so alone and misplaced. It takes a real toll on them, but i'm extremely happy for you, and kudos to your birth mother, and your family.
Thank you for the comment, and for the bit about Senior year. Btw, I love your icon! I can't wait for season 4, the creators say it's going to be devastating for Sherlock himself, and when the actors got the scrips, they were tearing up! So i'm extremely excited.
I've never heard of a 'rape gene' but then again us Californians are pretty liberal compared to other places? IDK, great poem though.
Love it! Can´t really expres why(so sorry, I hate to give useless feedback...), but I really like it
In general, women aren't looked down if they abort their rapist baby, because the overall idea is that a baby born out of rape is a monster, that's where the bullshit rape gene comes to play. They're actually looked down upon if they keep the baby more, which is pretty sad, but courageous of the mothers.