It takes a village to raise a child.
My mother, being a single mother, needed that to be true more than anyone.
She worked herself to death to feed me.
She finished school to inspire me.
She listened when I spoke, and held me when I cried.
She just needed this village to protect me when she couldn’t.
But villages, family or otherwise, are riddled with assailants.
I didn’t lose my innocence out in the world,
I lost it in that village.
That’s one way to grow up real fast.
Copyright © 2019 by Jack Wild Publishing. An original poem from Prison or Passion.