Little Wooden Box

 

In the worst part of the city, a man lay dead on the ground

The blood had flowed from him, there were puddles all around

His life had been taken, but it took six shots to get him down

And now I’ll tell you the story, of that dead man on the ground

 

His life it all started, way back in eighty eight

And for the first nine years, his life was really great

But at the age of ten, something happened to him

And what he was doing, he knew it was a sin

 

The love that he once had, now turned all to hate

And from his evil family, he would soon separate

He could not understand, why this had happened to him

Because now he enjoyed, his worst possible sin

 

Because growing up in a world, where everyone was alright

To keep his sins a secret, he really had to fight

He alienated himself, so he’d have no friends or family

But what a way to live, in a few years he would see

 

The pains that his family caused, were really quite intense

So he turned to drugs and alcohol, the amounts were quite immense

He wanted to drown out the pain, but nothing seemed to work

And with what was happening to him, he quickly went berserk

 

He turned to self inflicting, pain upon himself

He built a little wooden box, and placed it on a shelf

He took a knife and stabbed his chest, and pried his ribs apart

And in that little wooden box, he sadly placed his heart

 

His eyes they were no longer, able to shed a tear

For tears were signs of weakness, and weakness was his fear

He caused himself excruciating pain, so their pains he would not feel

And from these pains he knew, he could never really heal

 

He tried his best to just let go, and not think of what was done

The dream of vengeance grew in him, just waiting for it to come

But vengeance never came to save, this little abused beaten boy

For years he would suffer, till being tossed away like a broken toy

 

He left this home and to this day, has never thought to return

For once you have been in a fire; you learn it will always burn

So alone he went to face this world, so crass and cold and cruel

An empty shell of a broken man, that once was one of Gods jewels

 

The day the cops swarmed his home, he had committed no crime

He had been a law abiding citizen, up to this very time

He had tried everything else, to make the memories stop

To afraid to try suicide, he chose death via cop

 

He screamed and ran into the yard, and fired into the ground

The police returned the fire, it was an awful sound

As he lay there dieing, he caught the glimpse of a cop

And for this little beaten abused boy, the pains would finally stop

Reviews

[Gracie-San]

To be honest with you, I really am not into poems that have a rhyme scheme.

With that being said, I really liked this. Like, I REALLY liked this. The story was great, and the idea of the little wooden box that held his heart was great as well. And the fact that you had him die not by his own hand but through another's because he was afraid, makes it even better and a little more dramatic for me.

Good job.

[fallen_sueanne]

Kinda unappealing to the eyes, but this is really good ^^

[J.P. Bristow]

wow this was so intense....a great write.