reach out

Learn more about other poetry terms

The mother walked into her home, Not expecting her story to be told in a poem.   But her life took a turn that day, There was no way
  There’s no lost and found at my school. Not one that works, not in any school that I’ve been All the lost items go straight in the bin  
Don’t tell me that you know exactly what went through my head. ‘Cause I won’t tell you “toughen up, I’m already dead!” Don’t tell me who I did it for. With that you're never gonna score
They heard my muffled crying and told me it would be alright.    They missed me when I hid away but left me to my dark repreive.   
“Don’t call me ‘precious.’ Don’t be fictitious  with me. Don’t be the one to bite your thumb when I’m the one already done before everyone.
Open your eyes Can’t you see This world’s lies Are not the reality   This world is broken It hurts us all When we look at the fallen And hear a freedoms call  
  ---AAAAAA
There is a dark ledge a precipice into an even darker abyss that everyone seems to know yet everyone seems to hope there is no such place. We all deny the place we know
Subscribe to reach out