Dimly Lit Room

Dimly lit room she cries softly.
Running cool water on her wrist.
Watching blood and water mix.
Pain consuming her like a fist
Choking her of any thoughts.

Brightly lit room she cries loudly.
Other girls surround her and taunt.
Lesbo, whore, slut, and calling her cunt.
They laugh, and point and flaunt
The fact that she isn't straight.

In her bathroom she sobs.
Why am I different she pleads
To God as she cuts deeper.
Sharp metal gleams as she bleeds
All over the floor feeling alone.

Dimly lit room, her parents cry.
Their little girl lying there dead.
Another young teen lost as we
Watch the news of widespread
Lives that are taken by being different.


Bullying isn't a laughing matter. I know it seems fun at first but you are hurting someone and that hurt stays with them for the rest of their life if they don't cut it short because of the words, the physical  pain you might have inflicted. If you see it happen to someone even if you don't know them do not hesitate! Go and stop it, because in doing so you might be saving a life. There is enough hate, enough violence in this world and we can't afford to lose the bright minds of tomorrow. We can not lose sight that we all different but are equal.

Bluffs End

There are moments that are never enough.

They seem to last in abundance of joys.

Playing in the water under the old rocky bluff.

Screaming, laughing as it is with us young boys.

Our imaginations we tend to hold now flee.

The rocks from the bluff crumple down.

A howl echoes in our ears like banshees

Screaming, only to see blood flow around.

Electric

Electronic vibrations pulsate
Every nerve fiber under skin.
Tickling you with sensations
That creates your head to spin.

Shock waves of electricity
Burn through your skull.
You scream and the rave
Simply becomes a blinding null.

Electrification of impulsion
Ripples down your heart.
A cold fire is set loose.
While the doctor looks at the flip chart.

Little Child Who Was But Never

Little child who was but never.
Pray that you hear my remorse.
These eyes gaze up towards clouds.
Everyday I wake to endeavor
The anguish of our course.
Though my son, my daughter,
You shall be in our souls forever.
Our love was the true source
Of our decision for you, for us.
Little child who was but never.
I dream of rising as a vital force.
Respectful, charming, and brave.
Sweet, caring, and romantic.
To grow and do whatever
Your soul wanted to take course.
In truth this was to never
Happen in all my remorse.
Pray that you understand one day.
With all of our love we couldn't keep you,
Little child who was but never.

Ode on a Wall

A wall filled with holes.
Little circles dotting a white sea.
What are these holes that dot
Around these empty white walls?

Surprisingly from a piece of metal.
A flat circle head of varying sizes.
A round slender body that
Slightly ends with a sharp point.

As I take up my hammer.
I strike hard on the circle head.
Penetrating another hole in this vast sea.
Adding another frame to these walls.

Strike after strike
I reach below me
Another nail
To hammer away.
Strike after strike.

Filling these empty walls
With pictures of color.
 Another dot in this vast sea