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jenny-anderson
jenny-anderson
I basically write my feeling or previous feelings on page xD I do also write poems (usually which are more dark) which aren't personally about me as well. I'm 16 and I hope you enjoy my poetry
Hurling insults, trading blows, These are the evenings I hate the most, Let’s paint a smile for the world, Paper over freshly wounded words. And I sit on my bed, The bleeding knight, Stifling my sobs, Because they’re don’t deserve To hear my shame, That I backed down once again. I let go of what I believed, Lost hold of what I seek, Forgot what I’d found. We don’t agree, That is clear. But why must I always be, The one to bow? One day, soon, not soon enough, I’ll turn the tables, But for now I turn away, I hide my sorrow. I can not look at myself, (did you not know?) In a mirror, When all I see, Is my mother’s looks, And betrayal and hate, Hacked into my four year old self’s face. And why must it be, Because you come from the generation, Where for me to speak my mind is a crime. Where my desire to be seen, As equal to my brother, a joke. And where my feelings, Are simply empty words, Silken cobwebs in autumn frost, Easily brushed aside. Had I been born a boy, I do not think I’d have this problem. But it does not do well to dwell on, If’s and could haves. I can not escape, I am trapped, I bolt to my hole, Like a frightened rabbit, But the ferret it is in my home. Where could I go that they would not follow? When even society itself, Is fighting against me. Passive aggressive. Constantly tripping me, Telling me how, I should dress and act and think. And when Victims of **** “Deserve what they got, For wearing a skirt too short” And a family man, With two kids, Is beaten to death Because the person he loved, Happened to be a man too. When young black men, Are stopped and searched for no reason, Other than they “look suspicious” By a white police officer. When people vanish, And no one cares, Because biology and society told them one gender, And their mind another, How do I stand a chance? I actually feel pity for my parents, It’s not their fault that Society told them to live a certain way. But something is their fault, Because after all, They’re the ones who chose to Blindly obey.
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Mar 26, 2014
Mar 26, 2014 at 5:11 PM UTC
To Blindly Obey
Hurling insults, trading blows, These are the evenings I hate the most, Let’s paint a smile for the world, Paper over freshly wounded words. And I sit on my bed, The bleeding knight, Stifling my sobs, Because they’re don’t deserve To hear my shame, That I backed down once again. I let go of what I believed, Lost hold of what I seek, Forgot what I’d found. We don’t agree, That is clear. But why must I always be, The one to bow? One day, soon, not soon enough, I’ll turn the tables, But for now I turn away, I hide my sorrow. I can not look at myself, (did you not know?) In a mirror, When all I see, Is my mother’s looks, And betrayal and hate, Hacked into my four year old self’s face. And why must it be, Because you come from the generation, Where for me to speak my mind is a crime. Where my desire to be seen, As equal to my brother, a joke. And where my feelings, Are simply empty words, Silken cobwebs in autumn frost, Easily brushed aside. Had I been born a boy, I do not think I’d have this problem. But it does not do well to dwell on, If’s and could haves. I can not escape, I am trapped, I bolt to my hole, Like a frightened rabbit, But the ferret it is in my home. Where could I go that they would not follow? When even society itself, Is fighting against me. Passive aggressive. Constantly tripping me, Telling me how, I should dress and act and think. And when Victims of **** “Deserve what they got, For wearing a skirt too short” And a family man, With two kids, Is beaten to death Because the person he loved, Happened to be a man too. When young black men, Are stopped and searched for no reason, Other than they “look suspicious” By a white police officer. When people vanish, And no one cares, Because biology and society told them one gender, And their mind another, How do I stand a chance? I actually feel pity for my parents, It’s not their fault that Society told them to live a certain way. But something is their fault, Because after all, They’re the ones who chose to Blindly obey.
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