You Are Out
I suffer at home
Do you like the show?
I suffer at school
Do you like to be cruel?
I struggle to cry
There’s no reason why
The tears don’t come out
It’s like there’s a drought
It may be syndrome
of broke eyes at home
I work like a fool
at this place called high school
Must I just try?
But why, that’s a lie
It’s like there’s no doubt
That I’m just the clout
A chess piece to loan
Out to broken players I go
I am no jewel
Rather, just a working mule
To spit on while others cry
To play with while others die
That’s what I’m all about
That’s why my tears have a drought
Something wrong with this poem?
Replies are closed for this poem.
If you or someone you know is struggling, you are not alone.
988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline — call or text 988, 24/7. Crisis Text Line — text HELLO to 741741.
Your Poem's Voice
See what makes your poem unique — its voice, energy, themes, and the literary traditions it draws from.
Comments (0)
Comments are closed for this poem.