just out of reach,
no key to free...
A simple word
could make things right,
a wounded wing...
prevents its flight.
a hidden world
gripped in darkness
sits a pearl.
this imprisoned thought
shall not be freed.
Two lips seal
its woeful fate,
the tongue, its keeper...
guards the gate.
Soon it fades..
and quietly dies,
on ebbing tide
© gmw '17
I haven’t slept in 2 years. I haven’t eaten in 5, I’m not lying.
People lie everyday. “Little white lies” we call them. They mean nothing at all. It won’t hurt anybody. What could possibly happen if I told a lie?
Some people are bad liars, and some lies are just bad.
I’m not a bad liar. But people just don’t believe me when I say anything. Everything I say becomes a lie in another person’s ears, they won’t listen.
So if I tell bad lies on purpose will anybody notice? I’ll mix up the truth with bad lies and see if people can tell the difference.
I’ve never broken a bone, I’ve never been drunk, I’ve never forgotten a birthday. Do you know which statement is true? And which one was the lie?
I’ve been sick for 10 years, my IV is made of tears, my cereal tastes like regret, I’m not lying.
I’ve forgotten my own name, I forgot where I came from, I left my consciousness on the bus. I’m not lying.
It’s very easy to ignore an obvious lie, when you know the truth. But I’m not lying…
My heart is broken, my dignity stolen, and my future is no more. I’m not lying.
My friends are gone, along with my dad and mom, my sibling disappeared. I’m not lying.
My chest hurts, my ribs are shattered, and as for me. Well, there’s not a lot of me left. I’m not lying.
I can’t stop myself from constantly running away from the truth, lies are just so much easier to tell.
They say the truth sets you free…
Ok… Let’s try again.
The poem is filled with lies, some of them easier to say than others. But I want to start telling the truth now.
I want to start this poem over. I want to be better than this. I know I’m better than this… And maybe you can hear it in my voice. But I promise. I’m not lying…
Here's an ode to the
Oh- that feeling in my stomach
when you turn it
through my mouth came words
and now suffer under your sea of humility
I know it's hard to see me,
It's getting harder to speak
when they don't have the time to
hear my cries,
to wait for my mistakes-
I take it back.
I never said a thing.
When they saw her sliced up arms and thighs
Because they couldn't believe
Someone with such a childish
Angelic face could really do that to herself
And no one thought to say anything
When she silently screamed out for help
So off she went with some rope
And no hope left
To the bathroom
In the shower
Where she hanged herself
By kicking a stool out from under her feet
After all she was short and tiny
Which leads us to today
An entire year later
Where she could've been an entire year older
An entire year happier
If someone had said something
Thankfully she found her God
But that doesn't justify an 11 year old girl's
Don’t wear leggings
Or a shirt that shows your cleavage
Because you need to be covered up
You’re a distraction
Don’t use your period as an excuse
For male teachers to let you go to the bathroom
Because you’re not fooling anybody
Don’t shave your head
You can’t and don’t
And won’t because we’ll suspend you
Watch the length of your skirt
The colour of your hair
The shoes and makeup
And they call that fair
Come to us if something is wrong
Come to us if you’re feeling bullied
Come to us if you feel unsafe
I guess they don’t remember pulling me and my friend over
Asking if we heard of someone in our year hurting themselves
They asked us because we,
We were the sensible once
The bright once
We’d never do such thing.
I guess they didn’t see my panicked
Eyes and my hand squeezing my other wrist
Is not a place
Where you can express who you are
Where you can be yourself
School is not the place where you feel safe
It’s a battle ground filled with glares
School isn’t about education anymore
It just became a challenge
You find you place and you fit in
But when you don’t?
You’re called out for not being good enough
In things you don’t enjoy
You get looked down on
And you don’t get your
As if a degree explains who you are
What you’ve been through
How much you’re worth
As if a degree
Measures the capacity
Of your heart
And your knowledge
And a teacher can share your grade
Make a joke and smirk
Cause she thinks you’re not worth it
And she can laugh and yell and call your parents
Who don’t think you’re any better.
Because year after year they’ve been told on
Parent teacher meetings that you’re easily distracted
That you don’t do what you’re told
That you’re rebellious
Because even if you showed respect to the hypocrisy
That you noticed years ago
They still won’t understand why you’d want to
Fight for what you believe is wrong and right
Because that’s not what you were thought.
You were thought to raise your hand when you want to speak
And even if you said the most amazing thought that came into your mind
And it was priceless
They would still point out that you didn’t have your hand up.
And that. Is the definition of school