segunda-feira, 29 de janeiro de 2024

Each bully has his turn

 remember the shock
horrid abuse 
 young son or daughter suffered
 warm autumn unknown to yourself

shed door lay open
Faint woeful screams wail
something dirty awaits in the darkness
convincing itself of healthy evil

the paint flecked and peeling
Like the old computer teacher
she gazed too long
fantasy too expensive in reality

Sarcastic smirks across faces
guilty yet unashamed
For they participated
never expecting to recieve

unbeknownst waiting for their day
of abuse in the dark
by some whim of a fiend
like the scar of an early ween

Believing it will never come
yet it is already gleaming
in a new bully's eyes
clenched teeth and hard fists

then your eyes meet mine
accusingly
As if hell's geography was foreign
as if demon's had never contacted me

their language scribbled across your skin lad
you the young man with some magic hat
that cannot protect you from a chaotic world
that hungers for victims like sugar and cocaine

whose only release is the pain in others




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