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Poetry Corner

Poetry Beatnik For sale.
One more-than-slightly used memory.
Cheap.
I need to get rid of it.
I'll give it to you for free.
Hell, I'll even pay you to take it away.
Please take it away.
I don't want it anymore.

"That which doesn't kill us
Only makes us stronger."
So why aren't I wonderwoman?
Why isn't she Supergirl?
Why are there so many of us
Hoping for the second option?
Why?
Why?
Why?

Our future is scarred
Adults do things to children
and adults don't listen.
Children do things to children
and Adults don't listen.
Adults do things to adults
and Adults don't listen.
We need to listen.

A Child doesn't imagine these Things
on her own.
Wither they happened
Or they were planted.
But it is not her fault.
She didn't ask for it.
She didn't want it.
It is never her fault.

Yet it still happens.
Our children are damaged.
Our adults are damaged.
Our future is damaged.

No one wishes for this
No one wants this
No one would choose this
No one would pretend this.

Listen to the Children
Listen to what they say
Listen to their cries, thier pleas
For the tales they tell are the truth
And that truth is wrong.

Our world is on a one-way trip to Hell
And no one seems to want to stop it.
No one seems to want to back up.
Our children are dying inside
And no one will listen.

Instead of helping,
Things are made worse.
Children are told they're wrong
Ad it's their fault
And to keep the Pain inside

And then they have the nerve to wonder
Why he killed himself.
"He was such a nice boy," they say.
"He had so much going for him."
Yet they turned deaf when he cried for help.
Told him to cheer up
Things will get better.

They never do.

Until we listen
Things will never get better.

-4/2/98
1:05pm

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