Not all depressed cut, Not all sad shed tears, Not all strong fight, Not all monsters roar, Not all young are innocent. Some just work harder to maintain a mask. We are here, And you have reason to fear, We are the best liars, We can manipulate the greatest con artist without batting an eyelash. Watch out we are coming.
This is a dark and serious p poem but that didn't change the fact that In was tempted to put "and we're *****" instead of " And you have reason to fear" ****
I can’t hide it I crave it Needing it to survive The pressure of your body That look in your eyes Pulling me closer Oh closer Sometimes by my hair Pinning me to that mattress Or whatever you dare For I feel it I love it That taste on my lips Unable to move With your hands on my hips Oh you know me Control me Fingers dancing on my thighs All those nights that you’d hold me Brought stars to my eyes By that grip of your hand Firmly ‘round my neck Oh you’d punish me tenderly I could never forget Yes you’d pull me You’d push me Goosebumps emerge on my skin Feeling the beads of your sweat Drip onto my chin Kiss me Tease me Master you know just what to do To leave me on my knees Begging for every inch of you
For a very young child, moving house can be incredibly bewildering, disruptive, even traumatizing, especially when moving countries tends to mean belongings need to be severely curtailed. Few remember their own childhood attachments, closely held treasures, even if perceived by harried adults as inconsequential as a bag of broken seashells. Would a little more listening and empathic explanation with kindness ease things well at such transition times