ThirteenA Poem by Boy of the redIt is a poem I wrote because of my father leaving. We are on batter terms now but the pain was still there. I'm sorry it's a little long and rantingThe boy was thirteen Thirteen and you left Barley a teenager Barley able to stand on his own. For 3 years you sent him to a hell they called a school Now he must endure another with you gone! His mother was breaking His brother torn He was dead. The boy was thirteen He was made a mockery of just for who he was attracted to. He wanted to die everyday. He felt nothing, Because of this he needed pain. He cut away his sadness Cut away the emptiness. He was dead inside. He put on his mask To cover his wounds, To seem like everything was ok. It wasn't He needed to die, Because of you he had Paul Paul helped him see That the only way out of this misery Was to die. So many options, But he could not do a single one. Someone always tethered him To this scared broken life. He wanted to move on. The boy kept his razors close at hand, Kept his rope and chair at the ready, But no one would let him leave. Paul and Death urged the boy to go, But he could never go. He could go and have no regrets, But the boy was only thirteen. He had people who kept him here. The boys scars were hard to hide but he did so. He hid everything from the world. He had to step down from the chair, Take off his necklace of rope, And hide away the blades. The boy hid them deep inside himself, Where no one could see his pain. He saw this world through his mask. Only when he was alone could he take it off, Where it left cold shameful marks He had to take it Maybe the world would change One day But the boy would never see it Because today he made his final choice His choice to leave it all He stood on his chair, Put on his necklace of rope, And with a simple step , He ended his pain, His sorrow and misery. With that step he left this world And all in it. The boy was 13.
© 2012 Boy of the red |
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2 Reviews Added on June 20, 2012 Last Updated on November 29, 2012 AuthorBoy of the redLittle rock, ARAboutI am me and that is all I can be. I write to stay myself and share my work. thank you for reading and I cant wait to see yours. more..Writing
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