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Temporary Problem//Solved by Permanent Solution
1 ReviewsA poem I wrote about suicide.
Are you afraid to see what may lie behind the glassy eyes of the child who was blind?
It may tell lies-it may tell truth
But what may rest in peace in front of her eyes shall always be known by the public eye
The tears that stream down her face is no medicine to the scars that linger beneath her sleeves
Her friends say nothing, for they are invisible
The teacher says nothing, for she notices nothing beneath the mask of parochial smiles
The neighbors say nothing, for they are there to hear and not speak of what flows through their ears
The mother knows nothing of the pain, for she is numb from head to toe of her surroundings
The father knows nothing of the pain, for he works around the clock only to avoid the numb mother
The daughter only swallows the pill night after night to block out the screams from below her belt to prevent the trouble of multiplication
The son with the lyrics raps about the everyday troubles of adolescence, only to cliche what happens behind his doors
The daughter with the scars
wishes to grow
wishes to learn
wishes to teach
wishes to love
wishes to live again instead of six feet under
It may tell lies-it may tell truth
But what may rest in peace in front of her eyes shall always be known by the public eye
The tears that stream down her face is no medicine to the scars that linger beneath her sleeves
Her friends say nothing, for they are invisible
The teacher says nothing, for she notices nothing beneath the mask of parochial smiles
The neighbors say nothing, for they are there to hear and not speak of what flows through their ears
The mother knows nothing of the pain, for she is numb from head to toe of her surroundings
The father knows nothing of the pain, for he works around the clock only to avoid the numb mother
The daughter only swallows the pill night after night to block out the screams from below her belt to prevent the trouble of multiplication
The son with the lyrics raps about the everyday troubles of adolescence, only to cliche what happens behind his doors
The daughter with the scars
wishes to grow
wishes to learn
wishes to teach
wishes to love
wishes to live again instead of six feet under
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