Well, my daddy left home when I was three,
and he didn't leave much to Ma and me,
just this old guitar and a bottle of booze.
Now I don't blame him because he run and hid,
but the meanest thing that he ever did was
before he left he went and named me Sue.

Well, he must have thought it was quite a joke,
and it got lots of laughs from a lot of folks,
it seems I had to fight my whole life through.
Some gal would giggle and I'd get red
and some guy would laugh and I'd bust his head,
I tell you, life ain't easy for a boy named Sue.

Well, I grew up quick and I grew up mean.
My fist got hard and my wits got keen.
Roamed from town to town to hide my shame,
but I made me a vow to the moon and the stars,
I'd search the honky tonks and bars and kill
that man that gave me that awful name.

But it was Gatlinburg in mid July and I had
just hit town and my throat was dry.
I'd thought i'd stop and have myself a brew.
At an old saloon in a street of mud
and at a table dealing stud sat the dirty,
mangy dog that named me Sue.

Well, I knew that snake was my own sweet dad
from a worn-out picture that my mother had
and I knew the scar on his cheek and his evil eye.
He was big and bent and gray and old
and I looked at him and my blood ran cold,
and I said, "My name is Sue. How do you do?
Now you're gonna die." Yeah, that's what I told him.

Well, I hit him right between the eyes and he went down
but to my surprise he came up with a knife
and cut off a piece of my ear. But I busted a chair
right across his teeth. And we crashed through
the wall and into the street kicking and a-gouging
in the mud and the blood and the beer.

I tell you I've fought tougher men but I really can't remember when.
He kicked like a mule and bit like a crocodile.
I heard him laughin' and then I heard him cussin',
he went for his gun and I pulled mine first.
He stood there looking at me and I saw him smile.

And he said, "Son, this world is rough and if
a man's gonna make it, he's gotta be tough
and I knew I wouldn't be there to help you along.
So I gave you that name and I said 'Goodbye'.
I knew you'd have to get tough or die. And it's
that name that helped to make you strong."

Yeah, he said, "Now you have just fought one
helluva fight, and I know you hate me and you've
got the right to kill me now and I wouldn't blame you
if you do. But you ought to thank me
before I die for the gravel in your guts and the spit
in your eye because I'm the nut that named you Sue."
Yeah, what could I do? What could I do?

I got all choked up and I threw down my gun,
called him pa and he called me a son,
and I came away with a different point of view
and I think about him now and then.
Every time I tried, every time I win and if I
ever have a son I think I am gonna name him
Bill or George - anything but Sue.
ZinaLisha Sep 2014
If I have a kid,

I'd prefer a boy.

Periods and childbirth

is not a joy.
RH 78 Sep 2015
Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Washed up.
Lifeless.
All for a new life too far to reach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Terrorists
Heartless.
What happened to the human rights we all preach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Traffickers.
Gangs.
Displacing people no home and no speech.

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
A son.
No future.
We hang our heads and weep!
Broken hearted and deeply affected by pictures I saw in the news depicting the lifeless body of a little boy no older than three who was photographed washed up on the shore line of Turkey. The result of further illegal human smuggling, people trafficking promising to get families to Europe on a false promise. All too often, people are put into small boats unable to sustain the weight of all the people put upon it and not fit for purpose. This is yet another shocking event in the wake of atrocities taking place in North Africa where the displacement of millions of innocent people continues. Governments are too busy counting the pennies and quarrelling amongst themselves in addition to wasting precious time as gangs and smugglers take advantage of the situation by sending people to their death profiting from the desperation of families searching for a place to call home. When will this end? RIP to the little boy, his brother and mother who all perished.
Violet Blue Jun 2015
Grow some balls
You little pussy
Be straight up
Fuck you
Grow a fucking pair
Stop making a big deal
Out of nothing
I was upset
And you didn't even care
Didn't give a fuck
Cool dude
Thanks for fucken nothing
Fuck boy
Get fucked
Madisen Kuhn Sep 2014
boy
i saw you outside
on my roof tonight
with your messy hair
and cigarette glowing
between your fingertips and
you wouldn’t leave but
you wouldn’t come in
and i kept staring as you
blew puffs of smoke
with your back against my
bedroom window and
i wanted to get up and crawl
outside and sit behind
you and draw pictures on
your back of all the things
i didn’t know how to say but
my blankets felt like lead
so i whispered to my pillow how
much i love you and then
the sun began to rise
and you looked back at me
with ashes beneath your
eyes and i told my pillow
i wish you’d stay
but you didn’t you
never do
ic Mar 2014
unnoticeable lip balm,
on your soft lips,
lips that i just want
to touch with mine,
and do the calming
act again,
until i die.
Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.
Amelia Owen Jul 2015
Me
I want to describe your eyes the way a poet can describe the sea
Though I am no poet
I am just me
I haven't been on in a very long time.
hannah Oct 2014
the leaves were falling
the way i was falling
for you. //
h.d.
josie Oct 2014
it's not fair
that my brown eyed boy
is being treated like a toy
he's barely begun
and the sun
won't rise
if he doesn't shine
although he'll never
be mine
I wish he'd never lose
hope
I'll mope until
he smiles once more
and I'll never shut the door
for my brown eyed boy



-j.m
ali Mar 2014
Suicide boy, did they even know your name?
Suicide boy, they act like you put a bullet through your head for fame.
Suicide boy, the ones who you thought never noticed you are now wearing all black.
Suicide boy, you've done something you can't take back.
Suicide boy, the doctors did all they could.
Suicide boy, your room is being boarded off with wood.
Suicide boy, I wish I could have saved you.
Suicide boy, could I even if I'd wanted to?
Suicide boy, your name is all over the news.
Suicide boy, you're now the broken boy with a permanent blues.
Suicide boy, you're floating through my dreams.
Suicide boy, no one could hear your screams.
Suicide boy, everyone is starting to move on.
Suicide boy, I'll never be the same now that you're gone.
Suicide boy, you'll never get to grow old.
Suicide boy, you could never fit their mold.
Suicide boy, they're saying you were a lost cause from a start.
Suicide boy, how could a broken home ever heal a broken heart?
Suicide boy, your ending is bittersweet and you're just a statistic now.
Suicide boy, the curtains are closing and you're not here to take a bow.
m i a Jun 2016
don't add me into your life,
just to subtract me out, alright?
please don't divide my heart in half,
just to walk away and laugh,
don't try to solve me like an algebraic equation,
unless you're patient,
if not,
you might as well give up and go on vacation,
i'm too complicated,
you can go and ask all the past guys i've dated,
you may be smart math boy,
but trust me,
i'm smarter than all of your other toys.
this was fun to write, i was supposed to be studying for math but came up with this instead.
I am boy.
I am boy who enjoy booty.
I am...booty boy.
~O.b.
We need to get more inspired by the booty. Child of booty. (This is a poem I wrote when I couldn't sleep, please don't take it too seriously.)
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