My time in hell

A personal poem about what I experienced when I was in school

My time in hell

Spent standing in line

Listening to the rigid Neo-Nazi rederick.

Of people who supposedly knew more
than I  did.

Preaching rederick

Only the cruel could understand.

My time in hell

Walking through the trenches

and the halls .

My book-bag strapped cruelly to my
back with the label of bright,

But not gifted child.

My time in hell

Naked holding my words to my throat.

Laughter pelting my back like rain.

While you made fun
of my way with words.

And kept what I wrote
for your own purposes.

My time in hell.

Could not would not be repeated.

Like the sound of a machine gun.

The wounds never heal.

They seep to this day. Stifling my
creativity.

You paint the world in garish paint,
and say life can be no easier.

Than the war that we wage.

But the world proves you wrong,
and paints a dark picture of your cruelty.

Author's Note

Reviews are appreciated

Reviews

[.......]

The world is harsh and so negative at times,
But also at times it is wonderful.
What we do from day to day is live it as we are handed it.
I think at times though I am doomed. Some days never go right
and when that happens I just blame myself for getting out of
bed in the morning.
This world is full of haters and non believers.
No two people will ever agree on anything.
Sorry about your living hell, sorry if I shared mine.
Well expressed emotions.