The Best Years Of Our Lives

A Poem by Jade Mayhew

Any teenager can relate...

Her heart's consumed by hatred,
Her trust destroyed by pain.
She doesn't dare to love this boy;
He'll break her heart again.
Although he's long apologized
And his tears have flowed like rain,
She laughs and scoffs his weakness,
And ice runs through her veins.
She harbors no resentment;
She won't admit her fear.
Her alcoholism's her secret,
And she always has a beer.

He pays the man his money,
And walks off, face concealed.
He brings half the drugs back to his father,
Whose fate is long since sealed.
Dad's daughter is his play thing;
So his son must be his shield.
The scars his father left on him,
The boy knows will never heal.
He harbors no resentment;
He masks his secret tears.
His secret's drug addiction.
So ends his innocent years.

They tell her she's not perfect,
That she has to lose some weight.
She takes it as her friends' advice.
She doesn't hear the hate.
The girl, she just stops eating
And she's so psyched to get a date.
He says, "Oh you're so skinny."
She thinks she looks so great.
She harbors no resentment;
She believes it's what she wants.
Her problem's anorexia,
Gives her a body she can flaunt.

"It's just a little cigarette.
It won't do you any harm."
He wants to feel accepted;
He doesn't want to cause alarm.
So he becomes a different person,
And gets the ladies with his charm.
He does things he knows isn't right,
But they bring him in with open arms.
He harbors no resentment;
He just wants to belong.
His problem is his weakness.
It led him down a road so wrong.

She brings the knife across her wrist
And watched red blood flow.
She tries to dull the pain inside,
Caused by betrayal long ago.
She keeps her scars all hidden.
She doesn't want anyone to know
That she hates herself, she wants to die,
She's become her own biggest foe.
She harbors no resentment;
It's her secret she must keep.
Her problem's her depression
And the blood pool's getting deep.

She's wearing her best outfit;
She looks just like a doll.
No imperfections on her face,
No chance for her to fall.
Some watch her from their front seats,
Some simply watch the wall.
They can't bear to watch the one they love.
It hurts them, one and all.
They harbor no resentment;
They only wish she was alive.
Depression, suicide and drugs,
And these are the best years of our lives?

April, 2006