What do you think of when I say the word "poison"?
Probably of poisoned wine, choking, dying on the floor.
I think of a different poison, not like the ones before.
Poison of the Mind, it affects us all,
spread by lies, deceit, falsities, untruths, but also
ideas, innocent enough at the start,
until they leave our minds, travel through our hearts
and out our mouths to infect another like a contagion.
It adds new meaning to "pick your poison" doesn't it?
We all choose, but only through the filter of those around us.
Every idea, regurgitated and resuscitated to every young mind like an old dictionary.
It's matter of fact until someone contradicts
but it's okay, they're obviously uneducated d*cks.
Because it's okay, just go with what your told.
It's okay to hate, to discriminate, to differentiate
when someone's meal doesn't match your plate,
or they don't match your traits,
because it's okay to dictate
"Pick your Poison"? More like choose your weapon.
Be careful when displaying your message,
because wrong or right's not the point,
so don't be afraid to disappoint.
Those loved by all are lying to themselves
so take your ideas off the shelves
brush them off and reevaluate
try to look through, remove the hate
Pick your Poison, Choose your Fate.

There it is.
Staring back at me from my desktop.
Peering into my very soul,
I try to look away, but it won't stop.
It won't go away.
My ears are ringing.
Today's the day
the demon's singing.
I have to answer.
I knew it would come.
The curtain to my dancer.
What has this become?
I lift it and look,
it stares back.
My bright outlook
corrupted, black.
I press the button,
my day I forgo,
my final word
"Hello"

Did you ever think?
Did you ever think that I am capable of sadness?
Of anger? Of pain? Of contempt?
Did you ever think that the chinks in the armor,
Finally break through after so many attempts?
Did you ever think that I have feelings?
That, maybe, just maybe, it’s only a joke to you?
Did you ever think that I might actually be gay?
That all of the “jokes” might hurt too?
Did you ever think that my masculinity
Isn't something that I need by my side?
Did you ever think what would happened if
Your words caused my suicide?

Of course you ******* didn't.
Why would you?
It never ****** me off enough for you to stop,
So why should you?
I hope you never read this poem,
Because then you’d call me gay again, too.
Because “Poetry’s for *******”
And so is my rainbow backpack.
But I’m doing my best here,
So cut me some **** slack.
I’m just a kid,
And I need a safe place.
Otherwise, where would I be able to show
My true face?

Did you ever think that I don’t really blame you?
And that I just don’t want you to be the same, too.