Steaming pain, Timing pays, Hate these days, Sadness In my brain, Why is there pain, In my veins, This must be the day, I admit my sins, I can’t do much, I get yelled at a lot, I get bad grades for what I cannot do, I get laughed at all the time, For a disease I was born with, I wish I could do sports, I wish I could do track, But what’s holding me back, Is what I most hate, They push and shove me, For what I am, I can’t get a date, Because who’d date a freak, I cannot sleep well, Because the pain swells and keeps me awake, I wish I could die, Or make it go faster, So I won’t have to deal with the pain, Because my cancer is real, And I am a freak, With no friends, Just alone forever dying in pain. No one will remember me when I’m dead in gone, So I’ll just end it all with a blade.
Living... Breathing... Eating... Sleeping... All things you are told to do. As for you... You hide what is truly inside... You hide your depression and mask the pain... People laugh at you and call you dumb, stupid, gay. All because your different. You are told to take more pills, to seem normal. But all it does is remind you that your never be loved. You work out fighting the pain trying to be more attractive and you stop Eating, sleeping, anything and everything to make you appear more Attractive. Or so you thought you were. Your step father who you've mother had just met rages and yells. As for he is drunk. You hear cries in your mothers room. As you run desperate to see what the ruckus was about. Your mouth drops and tears stream down your face as you whiteness What is befalling right in front of you. Your mother being choked and held on the bed and a small puddle of blood Soaked on the blankets. You run quickly while fear fills your conscious. You begin desperately trying to ply him off. He eventually gives in and looks at you with anger and anguish. You begin yelling at him telling him to stop and calling him names. You succeed in the determined mind of yours and get your mother and sister and brother in the car and drive off. Your mother driving while calling the police. ..... A few weeks later... .....Your mother has forgiven him. And you hear moans in your sisters room. Shocked by what you see you close your door. And hide in your room waiting for it to stop. Hoping for something better. A few days later my mom found out. And she kicked him out. And 'twas the last time I ever saw him. He may of sounded bad. But he wasn't always like that. He was amazing and taught me everything and loved me. And I loved him. Just not when he drank...... A few months later .....You get in the bus trying to forget the things They called you. And you place your headphones in your ears and turn up your Music as load as it would go. You have just recently been cheated on by your girlfriend. Who you've learned to love and you did everything for. You changed who you were and bought her gifts everyday. And bought her flowers and candies. And she cheated on you with her cousin. You thought it was sickening at first but got over it. And your mother had just married some guy named Ron. He was okay he didn't drink. Although He was immature. And liked toy plains and cars...... An week later .....You sat on the couch as your mother ranted on about How useless we were . And told us how much of an burden we have been. My sister arguing with her witch we all know was useless. All because Ron thought we needed more chores...... Days later .....You sat there in your room feeling depressed. You were thinking of when you were younger. When you were beaten at school by some bigger kids. And when you used to be hit by your dad. Or when your cousin makes you touch him when you were about 5. You try to forget those names. And pranks and dirty tricks people played on you. You tried to think of something else but then you just think of the present. You still were called retard and freak and weird by all. You had only 1 friend witch was your inner mind. You began to agree with your parents and your friends. Maybe you are just a burden. Maybe you are just and stupid boy determined for nothing. You pear over and see your pocket knife. And you grab it. And hold it and place it on your wrist and began to get mad and sad And confused. And with an fast strong sloping motion you cut. You look at the cut. It was deep and was covered with your fresh blood. You sat there feeling the pain surge to the wound. It feast good and you began feeling relief. Like the weight of the world just disappeared. You cut again this time faster and deeper. And you forgot about the bad memories. And once again you cut. Now you've forgotten all the people you've lost. And you feel relieved. and you can't help but grin. Witch was an amazing feeling because it felt like Forever since you've last smiled. For the rest of the day you were happy and everything seemed to go right In some form of way...... 1 week later .....You were In your room ready to relieve all the stress you've gathered from the past 7 days and had agreed to yourself that you would only cut yourself once an week unless something big happened. So you grabbed your pocket knife witch was still stained by blood since your last Cleansing. And you place it on your wrist and the blade was cold. And slowly all the bad memories began coming back and you Slice. Over and over again leavening what seemed like thousands of cuts. There was blood all over your arm and your cloths. But you were happy and everything in the world seemed at piece. When people asked what the scars were you told them your cat like to Scratch a lot. And that was your excuse for weeks on end...... 2 weeks later .....You have began cutting everyday now. You now have this thirst for cutting. You tried to fight the urge but never could quite simply. And the cuts got worse and worse. You have became addicted. Just like a pot head and his pot you now need daily doses. Otherwise you would go crazy. As you held you new pocket knife witch you had bought. It had saw like features and could cut deeper and was fast and easy to use. And with a sweep fast swipe you began to cut. Blood went everywhere each slice about an cm inch deep. That's when you heard footsteps approaching your room. You quickly hide the knife and put on an turtle neck shirt. And pretended that you were playing on your iPad. And when she walked in she looked cautiously everywhere. You look down at your arm witch was covered by long sleeves. There was blood dripping out and blood all over your hands. You knew that she saw the blood and you knew that she was going to ask what It was..... A few days later. ....You were sitting in the chair when your name was called by the doctor. You walked in the office to great your therapist. After an hour all he did was give you more pills. And told me if it continued I would be sent to the loony bin. I was tired of taking meds that never worked. All they did was make me act weird and make it hard for me to think, But what choice did I have?.... A week later ....It has become such an agony to stop. But you've found an new love. Her name is Tara. She is different. Older than you. 18 to be exact but you were told that when it comes To love age doesn't matter. You and her send dirty letter back and fourth for What seems like ages. Until you've realized you've written 79 letters and received 46. You still have the urges of cutting but just not as bad as you used to. Somehow being with her makes it all go away. Although you miss your ex but your get over it...... 2 weeks later .....You were mad furious that Ron was going through your Phone. You asked him to stop but he said he can do whatever he wants. You ask again once more. But still he didn't budge so you out of anger yanked the phone away from him. You were sick of your parents always going through your things. You had no privacy. You couldn't even write for therapeutic reasons Because your parents would find the letter or paper. And now you were exploding and Ron now was standing in front of you threatening you. You don't back down you were sick of people always looking down at you. Ron then gets really close to wear we were touching chest to chest. That's when he shoved me and I threw an punch and after that before You knew it You were being held from the neck being slammed against the wall. Eventually things cooled down. Your sister and brother moved out after that fight. Now it was only you mom and Ron. All alone. You've lost your brother. The one you loved dearly and shared your feelings with and laughed with and played with and read to....... A month later ....You were sad and depressed. And you were surfing the safari. When you found this website. It was called deepundergroundpoetry you were at first A little confused. But the clicked the link. And you first saw flowers girls poem And that inspired you. It made you wish you could write something That beautiful and great. But then you saw the sign up button on the upper right panel. You were way to excited and couldn't wait to start writing your own masterpiece. Finally you could now publish your poems without having to hide them from your family. So you signed up and choose your best picture of yourself and set it. Then you added your bio and everything including the regular stuff. After you finish signing up you finally upload your poem you wrote a long time ago. After that you waited for responses. Never came. So you decide to read some other people's poems and rate and comment on them while you waited. Of course you started out by reading more of flower girl's poems because you liked them and you rated most of them and left a few comments. Then after an hour or so of rating and commenting you saw the completions. You make your first competition and you decide that you had enough depressing things on your mind and decided to make it something funny. And called it O'l standards joke. And made the rules and added a short funny rhyme. A few minutes later some one replies. He was diamonddave75 he responded with a small funny joke that made you laugh. And after that you visited his poem page and viewed some of his poems witch you loved. His poems were amazing and he had so many to read. You new you were a fan right from the gecko. You become friends with a few members publishing and competing in competitions. You were having fun and were loving the web. And now here you are satisfied with your life. Glad that you have written a book published at age 15. And you were glad that you have became such a great writer. And was glad that all the bad things happened the way they did. Otherwise he wouldn't have gotten to were he is now. I mean sure he is still bullied and picked on at school but somehow he knew he would survive. He was strong and new his future was going to be great. He knew he was going to grow up and do amazing things and write amazing books and meet lots of new people. And he knew he would start a family and marry his girl. He knew this because he had his friends support and help from others. Without them by his side he would of been gone a long time ago. He is very appreciative of everyone's help. He couldn't of asked for an better life.The end......
The snow fell quietly on the little hill with the softness of swan feathers, blanketing the ground around the tiny log cabin. Wispy drifts cascaded down the roof and gathered around the windowsills as if to cradle the tiny abode
Some days, I sit and dream of being something beautiful. I dream of being the sweet flower in every person’s garden, Or the little butterfly that every child loves. I dream of being the magnificent peacock, flaunting every gorgeous feather,
Standing in this windy night under the sky in its violet light screams of the wind, its sounds blowing everything whatever it found watching the flashes of the sky thunder lightening up so high seeing this climate change violent mode