everyone yells at the gentle children of the day
who only want to make their way.
but their way is full of hurt and pain,
and they find themselves alone today.
Alone because they never see
the better side of you and me.
a side we keep unto ourselves,
until we kill it, bottling it well
and deep inside stomachs that groan in pain,
as they take in the bile of lies again.
Lost in dishonesty, given to lies,
one is never a person, just a product or size.
In time, gentle children learn this as well,
and dive themselves into the hell
of life without life, living for lies,
as even their families forget the ties
that once bound with love, but now nevermore
as the stress of the lying leaves them
wrecked on the shore.
and the love that they wanted, and knew they'd achieve,
is gone, left forever, and become just a dream.
A contest entry
- Stress (prewrites welcome) by Danna Hobart.
400 points, ended February 12, 18 entries
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Please tell me what you think
Comments
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So sad.
Well written.
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Hi! how goes it? I think my poetry gets worse and worse the happier I become. Maybe I'll crank it up another notch and do the very best I can again. That's not to say that I haven't been doing my very best, but I do feel that I'm slipping. What do you think? - ocerus
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You have certainly captured the perpetuating cycle of the dysfinctional family and all the stress that it creates. Thank you for entering.
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