Anonymously Me

I had the front row seat

To the most confusing show

In history

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I’ll scorch you

burden your bloodline

See to it that your grandchildrens

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I use to be a writer.

I use to be a painter.

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You came and rattled my cage

It wasn’t mild nor was it rage

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Day after day, a young boy stood,

Hardened by a path misunderstood.

The weight upon his shoulders grew,

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Please don’t tell me to write happy poems

These are my poems

Same as these are my feelings

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I’ve been changing myself to fit people’s standards,

since third grade,

I don’t know her she was weird and goofy,

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My cry for help was heard for no reason,

Just a quiet call - my life’s small beacon.

No one could hear, no one could see

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Time stopped when he took her body and left her there,

Alone by the river with nothing to wear.

He took everything she had, then turned away,

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No one would notice if she floated away,

No hand would reach out - none to help her stay.

She fights hard, but she does so alone,

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