Narrative Poetry with Psalms
(This is a True story..my life story)
Name of Narrative Poetry (Short Story):
Animals
As the deer pants for streams of water,
As I was going towards the roundabout near the street where those “scoundrels” abducted me as a child. I seen something that rattled my estranged memories from my youth (as a bastard child). There were children standing on the entrance of the roundabout asking for money. Specifically for car wash fundraising. When I was a kid there used to be little girls standing outside, asking strangers in passing cars for money, to finance a cheerleading fundraiser. Me and my mom would go around the roundabout all the time and see this. As I was remembering this, it dawned on me! A hovering vision took over me like a dream:
Those abductors were trying to toss me on the corner around the roundabout, after changing me into a girl cheerleader to get cash from strangers for the fundraiser! If they did it, they would’ve, used strong chemicals to lobotomize my child brain and change my appearance for compliance. Then would’ve thrown me on that roundabout (as a little girl), around the time my mother would roll around it…trying to find me. Child sex traffickers screaming in my face just to keep me compliant, saying “let’s see if she going recognize you”? As she unexpectedly rolls pass me. Then they said, “No one loves you!” Like it’s a tradition. A long lasting tradition.
Then I seen my face as a child, in the empty house, with the abductors that were trying to traffic me but they got scared. In that empty house…that was near the roundabout.
so my soul pants for you, my God.
If it wasn’t for divine intervention from my Jesus Christ and my Holy Father in the heavens they would’ve kept me in the house chained up! They got scared because the Holy Spirit Hovered Over me to establish a stronghold against my enemies. To silence my child hood foes and avengers! Protecting and promising heaven to children as prophets in this life after death.
As a human we are suppose to be vessels to make sure traditions are toppled when children are hurt. Why has that tradition around that devils philosophy still persist?
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
My tears have been my food day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"
These things I remember as I pour out my soul:
how l used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One
(This is a True story..my life story)
Name of Narrative Poetry (Short Story):
Animals
As the deer pants for streams of water,
As I was going towards the roundabout near the street where those “scoundrels” abducted me as a child. I seen something that rattled my estranged memories from my youth (as a bastard child). There were children standing on the entrance of the roundabout asking for money. Specifically for car wash fundraising. When I was a kid there used to be little girls standing outside, asking strangers in passing cars for money, to finance a cheerleading fundraiser. Me and my mom would go around the roundabout all the time and see this. As I was remembering this, it dawned on me! A hovering vision took over me like a dream:
Those abductors were trying to toss me on the corner around the roundabout, after changing me into a girl cheerleader to get cash from strangers for the fundraiser! If they did it, they would’ve, used strong chemicals to lobotomize my child brain and change my appearance for compliance. Then would’ve thrown me on that roundabout (as a little girl), around the time my mother would roll around it…trying to find me. Child sex traffickers screaming in my face just to keep me compliant, saying “let’s see if she going recognize you”? As she unexpectedly rolls pass me. Then they said, “No one loves you!” Like it’s a tradition. A long lasting tradition.
Then I seen my face as a child, in the empty house, with the abductors that were trying to traffic me but they got scared. In that empty house…that was near the roundabout.
so my soul pants for you, my God.
If it wasn’t for divine intervention from my Jesus Christ and my Holy Father in the heavens they would’ve kept me in the house chained up! They got scared because the Holy Spirit Hovered Over me to establish a stronghold against my enemies. To silence my child hood foes and avengers! Protecting and promising heaven to children as prophets in this life after death.
As a human we are suppose to be vessels to make sure traditions are toppled when children are hurt. Why has that tradition around that devils philosophy still persist?
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?
My tears have been my food day and night,
while people say to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"
These things I remember as I pour out my soul:
how l used to go to the house of God under the protection of the Mighty One
