Saturday, 11 October 2008

• EMO BOY X-x

  EMO  BOY

  One side of his

  darkest blue black hair

  falls over his left eye,

  ignoring the

  pink heart shaped pin

  that he had put there

  to hold it in place

  like it should.

  Reaching a skinny, pale, ghostly white

  hand up

  to brush it away

  behind his ear,

  he sighs as he does so and

  twigs snap under his feet

  as

  he passes

  the large pine tree

  heading towards

  his hiding spot,

  the only place

  he can be alone to think and write,

  the old park of his towns childhood.

  The old wooden bench,

  smelling of yesterdays rain,

  welcomes him with a groan

  as he sits

  and

  starts to write a lullaby,

  with his old fashion ink and quill,

  to help him sleep-

  to let others know how he really feels deep inside-

  and,

  tracing the scars on his skinny wrist,-

  to let the pain

  fade slowly away.

   

  • 12:16 AM
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