The Disregarded Blitz Against Modern Day Youth

You were an infant born into a world of indignation,

forced to feel the horrid vibrations

of a life you knew since

before birth

that would result in only tears and hurt.

 

That grenade he threw at you,

when you were only 5.

It took a while for you to realize

that you were still alive.

And even though--

your smile showed youth.

Your eyes showed old age.

It's amazing how a girl like you--

could take so much pain.

 

Remember when you were only seven

and went on the ferris wheel.

You thought the very top was heaven--

how could this all be real?

 

When you were only 8 1/2,

you saw him

throw a bomb.

And at that point, you couldn't stand it--

but suddenly, all was calm.

 

And you said sorry. For your pain?

I do not understand...how a tortured little girl like you could-

still-

hold his hand.

 

You cried and learned,

and cry

and learn.

Even to this day.

'Cause it's reall hard--it is, indeed--

to push the good times away.

 

And come 13

you saw a missle

blow up-

your home.

So you still live in this hell house,

all cold and all alone.

 

You're one year older now--you see--

don't worry little one.

Because you have strength-believe it, please.

And soon all will be done

So don't fret, don't cry and just hear me say;

That even though you don't want to remember--

I still sleep with my teddy to this day--even though it's colder

than

December.

 

Author's Note

Okay. I know this seems very different from all the other pieces that i've posted--so you're either dissapointed or you actually like it. I do write serious poems and those are mostly the ones that I have trouble sharing. For the sole reason that they are very personal and they're actually the ones I like most. This is more metaphorical than a lot of things I posted and some people may not be able to understand some things here, mainly because those are some of the things that only the authors of the poems know. Stanza seven is my favorite of the piece. And the last three lines are more than they seem, it would be very cool to see if anyone understands it.

Alright, so i'm sorry this is so long. But one last thing, i do use a lot of dashes in this. This is because of the many Emily Dickenson poems i've read and this poem just happened to end up like this.

I'm really glad Emily Dickenson's sister-in-law was a bitch.
PS. Listen to Worried About Ray by The Hoosiers--it's good. :D

Reviews

[Lorraine]

I'm glad this is metaphorical. I wouldn't wish it real for anyone, much less a child. Thanks for sharing it here. It was really an honest piece but like every other piece, I know that it goes deeper than just the words. I wouldn't even bother to try to understand this because like you said, some things are only for authors to know. This is a great write.

Keep Writing. ^___^

[Sam Freeland]

How you remember all those early years
and all the other unnamed fears
Is proof of what you have learned
and all the good and bad discerned
Your poem speaks of you
with words so true
They are help for me
and my memory to see
Where I have been
so I can go there again
I will think of you
when I get there
And your thoughtful poem
so filled with care

[Hide From God]

I enjoyed this quite a lot actually and it may be one of my favorites I have ever read on this site! You have a unique knack for writing, especially for conveying messages that makes the reader sit back and say 'Wow.' aloud. You make me think and I enjoy that when I read something. Very good piece!

[Jenn Gold]

I really like this. Even though the mystery of what this actually means eludes me, I really enjoyed it, and mostly because of that. You and serious go well together. :)

[Sara Hannah]

This is really well written.
I love you, sis.

:D
Stay Gold,

Sara