No song of yours can hurt me more than
Seeing one child in pain

My film class,
Is my favorite class

and the class I hate the most,

I love film,
I have a passion for this art,

this medium,

this class is my soul and bodies passion,
and like a job,

like my job,

it fits me,
but like all jobs,

there's things that just ******* ****.

and it's not over the normal things,
like time and money,

its the people you work with,

or in my case,
my class,

and they are all *****,

when someone makes it their point,
to upset you and hurt you everyday,

because finally you are good at something,

when you **** at science,
and allowed your math skills to fall behind,

your life is filled with lies and you find,

a reason to live,
worth all your effort and time

but the same people calling you stupid and dumb and a **** up,

in math and science,
are in this film class,

forced to take a smile,

and sarcastically say,
"good job,"

when your film gets played in class,

and even when you ask,
no one give you advice like you give when asked,

and every frame seen on the projected screen,

gives me anxiety,
and the rude, unhelpful reminders from my bullies,

don't ******* help me,

when I want to run out of my favorite class daily,
and scream  in all their faces,

"*******"

"for once..."
but I don't

I sit,

I bit skin off skinless lips,
hold back tears,

the urge to leave,

take all my insults
that are directed at me,

with a head tilted down fake half smile,

when they should be directed to my film,
but everyday, I do get to say;

*******,

because this year,
I make it to all my classes,

even the next one,

history.
period 11/12

with my dignity

The twisted reality is that bones break. People literally break and you dont always get better. Lives end, stories end, and people rarely get new beginings. The twisted reality is that none of what you thought as a kid was true. Not everyone can be president, and you cant be who you want to be. The twisted reality is that there are monsters in some little girls rooms, and thier moms cant make them go away. The twisted reality is that nightmares only end when you do, you dont get to wake up and think everything is fine. The twisted reality is that your parents lie to you. Not everyone is beautiful, not everyone is talented, and not everyone can be special. The twisted reality is that someone in your current school will become a 'villian' before thier life is over. The twisted reality is that we are all villians. Doing horrible things for what we think is right. The twisted reality is that most people will ignore what i am saying. Live in the lie. The twisted reality is people die thinking everything is fine.

Spartans had to roam the East
In the land as yet unfettered
Some Nigerians have to find a beast
And **** it to show they've bettered
Barmitzvahs may be tradition for some,
But for me coming of age was looking in a mirror
And realising that I've stopped changing
That I'm just like every other finished piece.

The mark of an adult is seeing a man
And feeling threatened by his size
The mark of an adult is seeing a woman
And thinking dark thoughts inside
The mark of an adult is meeting strangers
And instantly forgetting their name
And instantly not caring.

Many had to tame the wilds to become full grown of old
And we are not so different, we bear a darkness too
We must pass the burning eye of the real world's value of gold
We have to bear the people seeing nothing when they see you.

Close your eyes drift into a peaceful dream state.
But wait it's not peaceful, it's a war zone.
Destruction surrounds you, can you feel the hate?
This isn't a dream.
This isn't a nightmare.
Welcome to reality.

In the real world
     I am merely a passerby.
Finding no home to call my own.

I walk the dusty ***** streets
                  So lost and all alone.
Why then should it be this way?
Is this the modern way of life?
   Am I to always suffer loneliness
        A life beset by doubt.

Some people are blind in this world, others see gold, some only do of what half there told, others in a way seem kinda gay, the words we use it's like a play, we fake, we act, we love unintentionally, we laugh, we sing of memories we bring. Our cups and plates are all so full we stare outside broken windows.

A rule of acting:
"Real people lose."
They don't cross everything off the list.
Trophies, good days, and money
require a sacrifice of comfort
somehow already deceased.
It's a slow, steady process.
A long and sometimes plotless movie.
(By the way,
you know who will be talking to themselves
at the end.)