My poetry gets really dark when I'm hurting.
My poetry gets bubbly when my love-life starts to pick up.
My poetry gets short when I am broken.
My poetry gets weird when I am tired. Like, REALLY weird...
My poetry gets violent when I am angry. As in FREAKING violent.
My poetry gets dumb when I am bored.
but all of the words I write are made of genuine feelings

I am enough**



…



aren't I?

He looks down at his bruises,
The bullies they do this.

She looks down at her scars,
The bullying went way to far.

He smiles,
But the bullying has broken his heart.

The bruises, scars, and broken hearts,
Show nothing in comparison,
To the mental scars.

Why can't they like me,
Why do they hurt me.

These questions come to them,
Daily.

Have you heard these wretched names?
Ugly
Fake
Or even,
Clinically Insane

Have you ever stopped to think,
The pain has made them this way?

No they are not,
Ugly .

No they are not,
Fake .

Never have they been,
Clinically Insane .

But this pain,
Is more potent ,
Then red wine,
On white sheets.

Causing them not to,
Laugh,
Smile,
Or wish to breath.

Bullying,
Don't you see what you have done?

This pain,
Cannot be undone.

I will never understand
Society’s preference for love.
It is made out to be
Such a beautiful emotion
In songs and movies.
So why can’t everyone feel it?
Is there no Freedom of emotion?
Love is to be shared
Between two emotion feeling
things
Right?
So a man and a man can love each other.
A woman and a man.
A woman and a woman.
What is so wrong with that?
Social media is filled with same *** couples,
Happily together
For years upon years.
So why shouldn’t they tie the knot?
Do you realize that you’re making them feel less human
Because they don’t have the same
Privileges as straight couples.
Bullying is made illegal in multiple states,
Bullying includes not allowing people into
You’re group.
So how about we stop bullying
Men that love men
And women that love women.
We are all equal.

Not so long ago
In a land closer than it seems
There lived a silly little girl
With a pocketful of dreams

She was as hated as was loved
It didn't matter what she'd done
But the one thing that she knew
Was that she hurt everyone

Too fat and too ugly
Too judgmental and a fool
She could never just be perfect
And society was cruel

It carried on for years
And nobody could decide
Whether this silly little girl
Should get to live or die

So the leader told his people
That something must be done
And the poor thing should be dealt with
So it couldn't hurt anyone

At first there was denial
But the number quickly bloated
Soon even the voice of mother
Left the situation quite outvoted

But when asked ''who would do it?''
As the people shouted blame
Not a single one would volunteer
And hung their heads in shame

A tiny voice right from the back
Suppressed by a nation's shouts
Announced that she could do it
No longer harbouring any doubts

Every single citizen watched
As a blade was drawn with care
The girl aligned it to the heart
To breathe she didn't dare

Instantly her dull eyes closed
A single push was done
Hushed whispers silenced throughout the land
Watching her smiling tear drops run

When mother found her in the morn
Dried tears still on her face
She knew with greatest certainty
She was not in a better place

How hopeless she was lying there
With blood on the bedroom floor
The only thing to take comfort in
They couldn't hurt her anymore

Mother watched the coffin
Now the girl was quite stone dead
Such a pity, society sighed
That the land was within her head.

Take heed of this done story
For the many who ruin themselves
Though words might seem so innocent
Our worst critics are ourselves

They all try to look the same
all try to give themselves a name
pick on the boy who is all alone
just because his identity is his own
what has this world come to?
all this wrong that people do
just for the image they want to show
down the evil path they seem to go

The next person you go to hurt
or try to make feel like dirt
instead of trying to look cool
feel for the guy you make look a fool

A cool identity isn’t a need
let those you bully be freed
Your identity should be your own
A better person you will be known.

I'm scared that no one takes me seriously
That everything I say is labeled "dumb"
That they laugh when my back is turned
That I'm secretly "the joke".

I wonder if the people who get talked about
Know and don't give a sh*t,
Or are completely oblivious to it.

If it were me,
If I were the **** of those jokes,
I would crack
And crumble into shards.
And I surely would not make it out alive.

                            -m.m.