Moral Mortality

The morals of todays world are ultimately cruel, acceptance is difficult to find and is painful at times. The fight with the razor amongst everything else is difficult at best

Morality, mortality, words in spelling so similar

Unfortunate rhymes laid in the mind of souls

Arrogant creatures torment those who are weak

Depraving them of hope and turning them into circus fools

A show before their eyes to amuse the weak minded

The creatures display is put on with self hatred

Whipped into place by the comments of those who abuse

The damned watching as by them life has sped

No fault of their own, depression subjugates them all

Humanity attacks bringing them closer to the grave

Change of trains is needed, a longing to break the cycle

Sovereignty of the masses who don’t of them intend to save

Dead inset eyes staring at the people who are there

Yet never seeing this ghost with the dreamers smile

Her songs are soft, longing only to be touched kindly

For them to understand and to perhaps stay just a while

Yet continuously expecting for the gauntlet to fall

Parental figures playing in their room; laughter permeates

The cold air blowing through the window from which she stares

Wondering constantly about the reason for these fates

Walking through the night, in the morning realizing the mistake

Razors left in a pocket, hurrying into the early morning lit study

Gone gone, not seen in the pocket nor upon the floor

White carpets from footprints are now turned muddy

Panic sets in at, wondering where security could of gone

Leaving the room, there they sit, upon the parentals desk

Opening the packet knowing what to expect; to be surprised

The songs echo around her reminding her of how she is grotesque

Not one missing all gleam smiling their shined smiles

Slipped into a pocket, wondering why no comment was made

Parents so bold yet blind to the pain inside the girl they order

Never understanding her actions or why some days she seems to fade

Yet she smiles onward they don’t suspect any other story

If they bothered to ask, she’d deny every single act

The last question asked on a serious note; was whether she was gay

They state if so its just a phase as if their word is proven fact

Against the Christian way her mother murmured, staring her down

Denying the questions, performing what others proclaim as straight

Freak wherever she goes, even the gay/lesbian community deny the bisexual

Support she longs for yet its hatred she receives, to life shes late

The razors and sexuality never within society seem to have a understanding form.

Reviews

[Sanctuary Dementia]

Thank you :) Im glad you enjoyed it

[Alicia Hirshey]

I had to read this twice. That way I could make sure that I was getting the meaning of this poem like you intended. I love this poem. IT is one of my favorites.

[Not Available]

I had to read slowly on this one in order to the words from each line soak into my mind :)