She's got words on her arms
In the language of a broken heart
And they say
They say I wanna be loved
But I don't know how
I wanna dream
Haven't done it in a while
I wanna smile
Won't somebody give me
Author's note: This is a poem about a close friend of mine. The "words on her arms" are an analogy, for well, cuts. She wouldn't talk to me much at the time, but I saw them and that was all that really needed to be said, since she knew she couldn't fool me. Anyway, that was the inspiration for this.
She is doing much better now, by the way, in case anyone was concerned...
You are a bully that hides in front of a computer sending out messages of lies, disrespect,
If you have to hide in front of a computer to bully me, you're not very brave at all. In
fact, you are a phony and a fake.
I actually feel sorry for you as you hopelessly linger in your pathetic state.
The truth about me or any kid you're bullying will eventually come out. Truth is frightening
for you, isn't it? Because you know the truth will seal your fate.
You hide in front of a computer for hours at a time.
Your time would be better spent if you somehow discovered how, with other kids, you could
become nice and kind.
You hide in front of a computer to go about your daily routine of bullying other kids.
One day your computer will crash and along with it, your despicable bullying empire, too.
Just maybe then, you'll feel somewhat sorry for all the unnecessary bullying you did.
As the sun sets
and the twilight comes out,
as the birds and squrriels are no where in sight.
As the whores and pimps sit on street corners,
waiting for street lights to turn from green to red.
As cadillacs stop and roll their windows down.
I can her the faint cry deep in the darkness,
of dirty gutters and dark, dead end alleyways,
I hear the faint tears fall and hit concrete pavement.
I feel the faint cries of whores,
I hear the sound of backhand hitting face
and brused tissue and broken noses are everywhere.
And the somber tears fall onto pillow cases,
and white motel bedsheets run red with blood
and cheap Italian wine.
And you can her the poet over the radio,
reading his own work for the one millionth time
and you can hear his soul slowly wanting to die.
He drowns himself in smoke and alcohol
the whore takes her pay, or spends a night in a jail cell,
the pimp nowhere to be found,
with a shiny blade stuck deep in his gut.
And the somber tears fall gently on the concrete pavement,
the floors of a jail cell,
tears on the pillow case and tears on a lonesome stage.
Tears never present, but are seen by many,
pain aches and pain takes away,
and I pour one more drink for the whore.
She takes me away,
and I caught her salty, somber tear,
and she crawled into my warm embrace.
I was the one who stuck the blade in the gut of that pimp,
who broke her nose and made her bleed,
with a cowardess and souless backhand.
I walk into the moonlight,
hearing the somber tears all around me,
crash violently to the concrete pavement.
The Earth rumbles and erupts with these tears,
that are shead for fellow Men, and Women and Children,
but we all look at ourselves and smile.
Happy we don't pay rent,
happy we don't have cancer,
happy we aren't six feet under;
But we still all cry,
Somber tears all fall in one big wave
crashing violently on the concrete pavement.
Now the red light turns green,
and the traffic moves along,
the whore is still at her corner,
the pimp still with the blade in his gut.
All turned down to the worst
as the children lost innocence,
as the bums drank their last breath away,
as the man eating sharks finding their way,
to the over-crowded sandy beaches,
as the man turn to the woman
and gave her a slap across the face,
as the thef steals in the night,
as the coward goes behind his loved ones' backs,
as the oil lanterns spill over and burn the bridges
to salvation and paradise.
Something always happens to the good guy,
a knife in the back in the midst of dawn,
his woman leaving with another man,
he dying slowly of cancer,
or suffering from intoxication of the blood.
Poison. Poison, ravages his body,
oh, how could God let such things happen
to such a good man?
His life work, his social life, his nirvana
all destroied, burned away, turned to dust.
But with the evil, came the good.
Yes with time and time again
repeating itself in a circle of time,
across the crossed faces,
as blue eyed Death smiles
and as the girls grin,
Everything came into place,
Anyway with evil, came the good.
Indeed it had came right to his front doorstep.
Your very good at destroying
Young girls hearts who are enjoying
The attention that you give
But it is no way to live
When you control their every action
To fulfill the satisfaction
Of the men you share them with
Girls too young to know that this
Is not what love should really be
But they're confused and so lonely
Runaways that have nowhere
To go so you steal their
Innocence and make them think
You saved them all from the brink
Of living cold and alone
Pretending you'll give them a home
And as much care as they need
They're only helping you succeed
To make money every time
Their virtues put on the line
Your the worst scum of them all
Using girls so scared and small
I hope one day your found dead
With a bullet in your head
From someone trying to save
These girls from an early grave
I do not know?
It tells a story.....
It shows emotion.....
The story of a girl....
she wasn't excepted.....
no one ........
except one thing.....
It calmed her......
No ridicule from people......
Even though there was no love.....
It was better then a world of hate.....
the name calling......
The abuse .......
It hurt but when it was silent.......
The world faded.......
silence was her savior.......
silence was her bliss........
silence is bliss.......
Oh, Kate comes from a broken home
Where life’s just not that good.
She wants so much to make it work
If she only thought she could.
And several times, it’s crossed her mind
The thought of suicide.
It hurts so much. It just won’t end.
The pain she feels inside.
And Julia has a way with words.
She knows just what to say.
Yes, she can make you feel real bad
Or she can make your day.
She walks around her high school halls
Always putting people down.
She laughs at them and scoffs and mocks.
She loves to see them frown.
One day at school the two girls met
And Julia jumped right in.
She made fun of Kate’s hair and clothes
And then she laughed and grinned.
She called her names and would not stop
As Kate began to cry.
The bullying became too much.
Kate ran away to hide.
The next day when the school bell rang,
The principal had said
That Kate won’t be at school today
Because, he said, she’s dead.
He said that she had killed herself
Because the day before,
Yes, she was hurting deep down and
Couldn’t take it anymore.
She left a note that would explain
The reason that she’s dead.
A bully pushed her way too hard
With hurtful words she said.
And then when she realized
What she did with her words,
Yes, Julia then apologized
To ev’ryone she hurt.
She asked them for forgiveness and
Said she never will again
Say mean, cruel words to any one
From now until the end.
The next time that you tease someone,
Just please, stop first and think
The person that you’re teasing, well
Just might be on the brink
Of saying that they’ve had enough.
Their life they want to end
When the one thing that they really want
Is just to have a friend