"If all of us met in real life,
and some one was being picked on or hurt,
We would come at the enemy
with the fury of countless words
and millions of suppressed feelings."
Right after I said this, Right after I smiled
(For the first time in a while)
Right after I let go of the hurt I felt.
My father yelled
And blamed me for what I didn't do.
Now I feel them all again
The hurt, mistrust and panic.
My hands are shaky, palms are sweaty
I feel like puking, or possibly crying,
My heart is racing, blood is running
Head is spinning
Feet feel like darting far away from him.
My mind can't help wondering
If what I said was true.

-3nwlry

I have a little poem book
I carry it where ever I go.
I don't let anybody look,
In case they think I'm low.

Most poems are feeling depressed,
A lot of them sound sad.
People think that I'm repressed.
People think I'm always mad.

I have a book of poems,
That tells of all my years.
It's like my little museum.
It shows all my tears.

Can you see them glisten?
I just want people to listen.

-3nwlry