En.Citatepedia^®.ro

As She Lies Dying (pt 2)

This time they know
They know her seceret
They are doing just as she thought they would do
And agian, they start chanting
But this time she doesen't do it
All she does is keep on walking down the hallway
They start saying mean things like' Look, she's thinking of a
comback! ', 'Idiot.', or 'Freak! '
When they say those things, it always makes her want to do it more
But she knows it's the wrong thing to do
Now she is at home
Sitting on her bed
She does this everyday
It is her usual routine
As she lies there she takes the razor
Digs it in her wrist
As she does this she cries
She cries painful tears
But what she dosen't know
Is that he mom can see her doing this
Her mom is peeking through the crack on the door
Her mom barges in
She hides the razor in her hand and covers up her wrist with her blanket
Her mom starts screaming at her and goes into the other room to have a ciggratte and a drink
The next day she dosen't go to school
All she does is stay in her bed and do it more
She will keep on doing this untill it actully works
Untill she is gone forever.

poem by Savannah Moe
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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As she lies Dying (part two)

This time they know
They know her seceret
They are doing just as she thought they would do
And agian, they start chanting
But this time she doesen't do it
All she does is keep on walking down the hallway
They start saying mean things like' Look, she's thinking of a
comback! ', 'Idiot.', or 'Freak! '
When they say those things, it always makes her want to do it more
But she knows it's the wrong thing to do
Now she is at home
Sitting on her bed
She does this everyday
It is her usual routine
As she lies there she takes the razor
Digs it in her wrist
As she does this she cries
She cries painful tears
But what she dosen't know
Is that he mom can see her doing this
Her mom is peeking through the crack on the door
Her mom barges in
She hides the razor in her hand and covers up her wrist with her blanket
Her mom starts screaming at her and goes into the other room to have a ciggratte and a drink
The next day she dosen't go to school
All she does is stay in her bed and do it more
She will keep on doing this untill it actully works
Untill she is gone forever.

poem by Savannah Moe
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Mothers Recognition

as a teen of 19 sits on her bed
trying yet again to not to believe that her older lover wasn't drinking again
but the bruises and cuts that lay on her body say other wise
razor blade in one hand
while praying to God to take away the loneliness
take away the emptiness she has felt for so long
she doesn't want to end it like this but she will if it comes down to it
tears roll down her face
but she doesn't see any reason to keep caring on with this life of hers
nothing to live for
nothing important enough to stay in the miserable thing we all call life
the tears are clouding her judgment making her think that nothing matters any more
she takes another hit of the pot to take away the pain
because her bruised and broken body feels like huge stakes are being driven into it
and someone is beating around them with a club
but on the other hand she can still feel his fists shooting into her broken and bruised body
that makes her twinge at the thought of that same morning
tears fall onto her up turned wrist as she places the razor blade and starts to cut into her wrist the door opened as a young boy about the age of 3 with dark brown hair with light brown eyes comes in and says 'Mommy what are you doing? '
her eyes start to uncloud as soon as his eyes met hers
they reached into her soul and replaced a piece of her heart
at that moment something came to her
she didn't have nothing because she was looking at everything that she would ever need to live for
that little boy should be her world
only she didn’t know it right away because the things that she charished the most were the things that were too close to see

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Suicide Scars

i look at myself in the mirror wondering.
wondering what happend to the girl i used to be.
wondering why there are scars on my wrist.
why i did this to myself.
then i think back to when my whole world was crashing down.
i seem to realize that these scars are suicide scars.
i start to cry to the fact that i will have these scars for a life time.
i grab my razor put it up to my wrist.
and i start to cut.
i start to cut them suicide cuts all over again.
i cant stop.
but i guess that this will be me forever.
makeing them ugly suicide scars.

poem by Trish Spencer
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Suicide Scars

i look at myself in the mirror wondering.
wondering what happend to the girl i used to be.
wondering why there are scars on my wrist.
why i did this to myself.
then i think back to when my whole world was crashing down.
i seem to realize that these scars are suicide scars.
i start to cry to the fact that i will have these scars for a life time.
i grab my razor put it up to my wrist.
and i start to cut.
i start to cut them suicide cuts all over again.
i cant stop.
but i guess that this will be me forever.
makeing them ugly suicide scars.

poem by Teresa Johnson
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At the Florist.

A Man enters a flower shop 
And chooses some flowers 
The Florist wraps the flowers 
The Man puts his hand in his pocket 
Searching for money 
Money to pay for the Flowers 
But at the same time 
Suddenly 
He puts his hand on his Heart and 
Falls 

At the same time as He falls 
The money falls to the floor 
And then the flowers fall 
At the same time as the man 
At the same time as the money 
And the Florist stands still 
With the falling money 
With the damaged flowers 
With the Dying Man 
Obviously all this is very sad 
And she must do something 
The Florist 
But She dosen't know what to do 
Dosen't know where to start 

There are so many things to do 
With this Man who's Dying 
These damaged Flowers 
And this Money 
This Money rolling 
Which dosen't stop rolling. 

Jacques Prévert- Translation

poem by David Holbrook
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She Cries

She cries when she is sad,
She cries when she is hurt,
She cries for all the little things,
She has been hurt so much,
She feels useless,
She feels like she is just slipping away,
She cuts her wrist,
She cries for help but no one sees her,
Watch her pain,
Watch her dreams fades away,
Watch her die,
Just listen to her when she is down in the blue,
She didn’t know what kind of friends she was making until they start to threaten her,
That girl is me,
I have went through a lot but still tries to hang in there.

poem by Jennifer Rondeau
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Razor

===========================
Smashing Pumpkins - Razor
===========================
Razor in my hand
Nine little lines in someone's hand
Shot down from this group
I wish for something and I know it isn't home
Razor in my hand
Six little lines in someone's hand
Lay down, rest your head
You reach for something, and you feel something sting
Razor, razor, razor, razor
Want it
Now you rip apart who you are
Deliver
Yeah, you deliver who you are
Oh, razor
My little razor
Oh, razor
I wanna go
I wanna go
I'm like a junkie, I want it all
I wanna go
Want it
Now you rip apart who you are
Deliver
Yeah, you deliver who you are
Oh, razor
My little razor
My little razor
I wanna go
I wanna go
I'm like a junkie, I want it all
I wanna go

song performed by by Smashing Pumpkins
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Lose you

tears flow from my eyes
my mind is racing
palms are sweaty
as you tell me you don’t want to do this anymore
you cant
you don’t believe me when I say I love you
you think I’ve fallin out of love with you
and your questioning your self if I ever loved you at all

I’m thinking what have I done
what did I do
what will I ever do without you
the tears are clouding my eyes
like smoke at the end of a waterfall

I run over you and try to kiss you
thinking that will make it better
but you push me away
and tell me I cant change your mind
that your leaving and that’s final
you walk out of the door
not one tear rolls down your face
I droop to the floor crying
I crawl to the porch
watch you drive off without even slowing down

I collapsed on the porch and the last thing I thought is
when I lay my head down and drift off to sleep
I hope I never wake up
cause without you there is no point in me living
for you are who I am today
and you are in me
without you I am not whole
once you are whole you will die if you become one half again

I walked into the bedroom with the razor blade
because you had taken the gun
muttering the words I cant do this not without you
I slice my wrist as I watch the blood gush from my wrist
I pass out because of the sudden blood loss
you will always have me
so why did I
have to lose you

poem by Mrs. Cynosure
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Sitting By Your Self

THIS child needs your love,
this child sees himself in
mamas arms,
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child sees your tears,
this child waits untill its
past.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child cries, when your
sitting by your self.
THIS child takes your hand,
this child leads you to a
chair.
this child sings,
this child laughs,
this child takes away your pain.

poem by David Gerardino
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Untill You Come Home

This night
will be long
untill
you come home.

Hot water in the tub
is ready
I hope
it won't get cold
untill
you come home.

I'll stay awake
untill
you come home.

This night
will be long
untill
you come home.

poem by Marites C. Cayetano
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School = Rubbish

school i hate
now who dosen't
today i got a date
but he was a minger (ryan blann)
i hate school to much homework
nastey teachers this dosen't ryhme
but it's true

poem by Shaz 8j Reynolds
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I lock the door

I lock the door.
Thinking what the heck.
I havent nothing left to live for.
I have noubt left to give.
I simply cannot forgive.

I locked the door.
Shutting the rest of the world out.
Knowing it'll be over soon.

I locked the door.
Taking the razor to my wrist.
And cut my throat.
As the blood spurts out.
It'll be over soon.

As they break down the door.
It's to late now.
I've gone.
Im dead.
And this time you couldnt stop me.

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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The Voice

The Voice
By: Adam M. Snow

Ever heard of the things that go bump in the night?
When you are alone how it stirs up a fright,
The night's all calm in vespertine stillness,
But that's just the start of a long night of cruelness.
The story starts out with a girl so young,
With boys on her mind as words flow from her tongue.
Her name is Ember, not an age past sixteen,
Alone in a house with something unseen.
Her parent's are gone on a weekend long trip,
Cruising the Bahamas on a romantic cruise ship.
As the story starts she's alone in her room,
On the phone with her best friend Emily Bloom.

'It is true, my parents are gone,
They won't be back till Monday's dawn'
Said Ember to her friend over the phone.
'What are you going to do until then? '
Asked Emily.
'Surely you can't watch movies again and again? '
'I-I'll think of something I guess,
Perhaps I'll read or go out none-the-less.'
'O.k. Ember, I'll let you go for now.'
Said Emily as she hung up the phone and let Ember be.

The clock strikes midnight with her house now eerie,
She remains in her room, alone and dreary.
She lies down onto her bed with an erotic book in her hand,
Getting ready to read, she lies there peacefully and grand.
Thinking of nothing but the book she's about to read,
She hears a loud screech as of a woman screaming with plead.
'It sounds like it came from the room next to mine' she said.
'Must it be my parent's home early from a trip cut short? '
Getting up off her bed, she continues to see what that noise may be.
Walking now down a darkened hallway to the room next to hers,
'Whose there! ? ' She cries out, but not a voice in return.
She turns the light on to find, twas no one there.
'How could this be, am I not the only one here? '
She continued to search all throughout the house,
Only to find no one, not ever her brother's spouse.
'Perhaps was nothing, but my imagination going wild.'
She thought to herself out loud.

Back to her room to where the story first start,
With the night still young and also mild.
She picked up her book and started to read.
Again, she hears the loud screech as of a woman screaming with plead.
'Truly this cannot be my mind playing tricks on me.'
Said Ember now afraid and confused.
'Whose there! ? ' She cries out, again not a voice in return.
'Whose there! ? ' She cries out.
The voice replies, 'Ember.'
'Me? How can that be? Truly I must be dreaming with all these screaming.'
'Ember.' the voice repeats over and over. 'Ember.'
'LEAVE ME ALONE! ' Ember screams with agony.
'LEAVE ME ALONE! ' Ember screams again. 'JUST LET ME BE! '
But the voice failed to cease.
Minutes after minutes went by,
The voice urging Ember to die.
Hours after hours went by,
The voice urging Ember to die.

She runs to the front door hoping to break free,
But nothings there that she cannot see.
She runs to the window hoping to break free,
But nothings there that she cannot see.
She grabs the phone to call the police,
The operator answered and said, 'All lines are busy.'
She's panicking with fear with no way out,
She's hoping this will end, but she's full of doubt.
The voice constant going caused her to go insane,
With Monday's dawn approaching, only bloody stains remain.

A car carrying but two now pulls up to the house,
Exiting one-by-one, her father and his spouse.
Arriving at the front door, opening to see,
No sight of Ember for it's as quiet as can be.
They look all over hoping to find her there,
But what they found no parents should bear,
Twas a bloody message written on the wall,
It read, 'Here lies Ember, a child who lost all.'
Her mother's in panic, her father's outraged.
He grabbed a chair and swung at the wall,
What they found no one could call,
Was Ember's body rotted fifty years,
Her parents crying, shedding tears,
Suddenly there came a loud screech as of someone screaming in pain.
Twas the ghost of Ember, who died mysteriously in vain.

poem by Adam M. Snow
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The silent child never spoke

There she sits alone in her room.
And wipes away her tears.
Hiding beneath the covers so no one else hears.
She wraps them tight around her for noone else to see.
Praying if there is a God to make her safe again.

She hides deep into covers holding
Cuddling her little teddy bear as she cries her tears.
She waits for the assurance that all has gone to bed.
Hoping and praying maybe he'll leave her alone tommorow.
And not find an excuse to get her alone.

In the morning she shivers with her childlike fear.
As she starts to cry knowing what he has come here for
Although she doesn't know why.

He made his excuse to look after her.
He tells her she is special that she's his little girl.
As he pulls back the covers he rapes her on her bed.

Deeper she now goes into her silent world
He says that it's their secret the special game they play

She lay there in her silence with her clothes on the floor.
Trying to shut it out as the tears slowly fall.

She listens to him tell her that she will be to blame
If anyone discovers their special secret game.
So deep within she hides the pain.

He tells her this is their little secret;
she mustn't say a thing.

Then she cuddles up to teddy and cries her silent tears
Beneath her tear soaked covers so no one else can hear.

And as she lay in her silence
with her tear-filled eyes
Each time that he comes to her
a part of her dies ~
So she curls up in her bed
and hugs her teddy tight
And prays that he will never
come to her again at night.

poem by Amy Louise Kerswell
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Forbidden

something forbidden
becomes so delicious in the mind
the suspense of deprivation
makes it more desirable

everyday desire takes
upon itself what is forbidden
in the secret room
of the heart
guilt cries but

soon the guilt by extreme need
of the flesh
erases itself like the list
of unwanted friends

everyday what is forbidden is done
until such point
when what is forbidden becomes
a routine
until what is forbidden becomes
the usual familiarity
nothing about what is forbidden
becomes interesting

and then sin does not exist
until the good becomes the forbidden
in the silent room of your heart

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Drunkards (Story-Bullying)

There was three of them in an old pickup truck
After drinking all night at the GOLDEN DUCK.
As the sun was coming up they was screamin and cussin
As to what to do next - they was fussin.

When seeing this sixteen year old riding her bike to school
They started acting like the drunken fools.
They started screaming and howling and giving wolf cries
As the girl rode on by.

They wasn't just satisfied with their howls and cries
They wanted her by their sides.
They turned the truck around and cut her off
They was going to show her ' who was boss'.

They tried to grab her from the back
But she was prepared for any sneak attacks.
She had her guardian angel with her from heaven
And she had been learning KUNG -FU since the age of seven.

When the first one reached out to grab her
She grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand straight up and back
Till she heard his wrist crack.

As the second one came running up
A round house kick in his face
Sent him flying into space.

The third one came at her with a tire iron in his hand
As she crotched down and took her stand
When he was about two feet away and open wide
In his crotch her kick did fly.

All three men lay on the ground
as she picked up her bike without a sound
Put her bike on their pick up truck
With this girl they was s- out of luck.
Then drove the truck into town
and told the sheriff where they could be found.

They was charged with 'drunk and disorderly manner'
And on the high school there flies a banner.

'Protect yourself and don't give in
Being a bully you will never win'

poem by Louis Rams
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Freak Of The World

Dont want the sun to shine upon my face
And i see your eyes and their glazy haze
Your lips dont move
But i hear what you're saying
I look outside through the razor blades
And i crawl and i scrape and i feel for you
But there's nothing
There's nothing that i can do
Im a freak
Im the freak of the world
Im a freak
Freak of the world
Stars are shining oh so bright
And i dont think everything's alright
And i can't wake up
Cuz i dream all night
Yeah you're in my way
And i can't get bye
And i beg and i cheat and i steal for you
But there's nothing
There's nothing that i can do
Im a freak
Im the freak of the world
Im the freak of the world
Im the freak of the world
And there's nothing i can say
And there's nthing you can do
And there's nothing i can say or do
Dont want the sun to shine upon my face
And i see your eyes and their glazy haze
Your lips dont move but i hear what you're saying
I look out side through the razor blades
And i try
(through the razor blades)
And i scream
(through the razor blades)
I can see your face
Im the freak of the world
Im the freak of the world
Im the freak of the world
And there is nothing i can say
And there is nothing you can do
And there is nothing i can say or do
Caz im the freak of the world
Im a freak
Of the world

song performed by by Puddle Of Mudd
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Razor Blade Alley

Oooo I didnt talk too much, in fact not at all
But to ask for the price I was to be no fool,
Moneys no time to waste or to shoot up the wall
Yyou got the know how, the place did you take media school
She led the way from the alley back to her house
Must not be seen going in must not be seen coming out.
She said I looked mighty but thin
She told me im gonna give you a second helping
Oooo razor blade alley, Ive been there,
Razor blade alley neither of us cared
It was the prime time but the wrong place
It was my first time, I hope my last date
Im just to shy to check in, but this pain of these razors is cutting in
Oooh felt like a knight without shining armour on at the time
She thought she was in a dream, floating up on cloud nine
Now I awake,
She is nowhere,
But the razor cuts deeper everywhere.

song performed by by Madness
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Cutter's Suicide List

My friend Kayla Szpytek wrote this poem. She never thought her poems were good enough, but I took it upon myself to write some of them here for her.

She wrote his name upon her wrist
Did all the things from her suicide list

The cutter's suicide list reads,

Get a razor
Get a gun
Won't be long
'Till the job is done
Cut the veins
Blow the brains
Never again
Will it be the same
Shards of glass
Blood everywhere
Nobody notices
Nobody cares
Bath of blood
Shower stained
1,2,3
Let's play a game
Gun, razor, glass, blood
Her final closure
The list is complete, her pain.......finally over.

poem by Devin Morris
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The Queen Is Made Queen

I shall not walk untill the red carpet is layed before me
I shall not talk untill silence is provided for me
I shall not ride untill the door is opened for my majesty
I shall not accept aything beneath my excellency
I shall not be thought of with less than respect
I shall not be treated with less than i expect
I shall live as queen because i am one in his eyes
I shall live proudly because he calls me his paradise

poem by Ayesha Sartawi
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