Open Mic: Heroes

I was a three month fetus when my father left me
Guess he was on a quest for sex and I was not a blessing
Maybe, looking onward, didn't want to live with pockets empty
Left a baby and someone who trusted him to God and pennies 
The weight he'd laid had basically created mazes walked by many 
He didn't have the mental strength to walk the path, was not yet twenty
Mom and I, the son who sliced her sunny life to shade, to zero
The brightest lights disguise because it's tragedy that makes a hero
We made it, clearly, but I don't know how, was too young to remember
Guess she rose to the occasion like a seedling in the sun of September
Never making a frown, inside I knew the fear, it was making her drown
Some day it'd spray down her smile like tears down the face of a clown
But that day never found us. Her optimisms embrace still astounds me
How failure had us targeted, but she kept us safe from the bounty
I hated my stepfather but in hindsight he had taken us both in
A mom, a newborn baby, and he raised me as his own kid
He gave me siblings to grow with, I still know them as my own kin
There's many words of praise to give, and lots more left unspoken
I watched the way he treated her, spawned the fate that breaks her down
The blossomed pain of atrophy in muscles came, it shakes her now
Pain would fade to numbness, stumping doctors but they got a few clues
Sent her to a specialist who's sentences were talking her through it, said
Mounds stress she often accrued has lead to MS which is autoimmune
Think she said quit? Forget it. Selectively colorblind to all of the blues
She's taught me to take all the thoughtless abuse as an optic of fuel
Taught me that sometimes he who claims king is an incompetent fool
The greatest lessons taken from youth and the wonders that start from it
Is that sometimes something scarred can create fluctuating garnishes
The banding of the fear condenses and it ushers like a harlequin
So families are our heroes and our mothers are the heart of it

Damn Nigma,i really got a kick from this piece on reading,so many elements of struggle
and strife of a mother (with a child entow) picking up the pieces from a shattered begin-
ning,and the aspects expressed from the child's point of view was a ripe inclusion,it just
oozed with emotions and details that are being played out for many on a daily basis,
which is almost accepted today by society like its a reflex or some shit,i was really fee-
ling the child's turmoil from going with no father,to having one who was man enough to
step in and up,a real ripe read here dude,(just sorry i'm late with this feed),a really well
thought out and written OM..RIPE..peace.

Just Wow
Spike me a twenty
Vision on this would scope a Waldo in C time
Loads of this resonates with me, loosing Mama to MS, growing up in a jigsaw family, that step parent thing! “Treated me like second best-true, kept me fed, clothed and safe on the roads and gave me my brothers with whom I share mutual love .......true
Plus the writing the wording and the rhyming
All made this masterclass resonate with my noggin
Beautiful stuff here