They Listen

The other kids laugh.

Only a boy who wanted to fit in, the new weirdo as a kid,

The other kids laughed.

I played with my friends, the friend of the weird kids,

And, the other kids laughed.

The other kids watched.

Hit to the head, knees red like rose, with white from bone,

The others kids watched.

Tears such of rain of a hurricane and cries of desperate pleas.

Begging for mercy, pleading for peace.

Yet, the other kids watched.

Plagued by constant violence and a shadow behind my back

I looked for an escape. I wrote my note. My note, which transpired my poetic desires.

My pain discovered my passion.

I found poetry in my darkest hour, looking towards death’s path I stumbled upon my safe haven.

When my heart aches, when the days are slumber, when the world seems to suffer,

I write.

And now, The Other Kids Listen.