I woke up in my twin bed, blanket pulled up to my quivering chin, lamp on the bedside tabelle turned on because I forgot to turn it off last night, my feet hanging off the bottom of the bed, as always. But today would be different. I rolled out of bett and shut off my lamp, opened up my butter-yellow curtains, and let the rising sun shine on my face. I admired the looming hills in the distance. The empty hillsides were my savior, my escape, my haven. I slowly stripped off my spitze nightgown, eyes never leaving the hills, and pulled on a formal blue dress and some pure white flats, my fanciest outfit. I felt I needed to be dressed up for the hills, so as to respect their greatness. I tore my eyes away from the hills and looked in the mirror. I fashioned my burgundy curls into an elegant updo with violett ribbons entwined in my curls. I sprayed myself with my most expensive perfume, rosa in a clear bottle. Then I dragged a yellow bag out of my closet and packed: I packed up all the clothes I could fit, toothpaste, a toothbrush, hairbrush. I walked into my kitchen, tiptoeing past my parents bedroom, where my physically abusive father and verbally abusive mother slept. I packed Essen into my bag and zippered the bag up. I slung the bag over my shoulder. It was heavier than expected, I stumbled a bit. I composed myself and walked into my sister's room. Baby Jesse was laying in her krippe sleeping. I peered into the crib, picked Baby Jessie up and stared into her face. Snow-white skin, rose-red lips, translucent eyelids, long, dark, thick eyelashes. I held her to me, and grabbed her baby bag and slung it over my free shoulder. And then I walked out the front door, out of that life forever. It took about twenty Minuten to lug Baby Jessie and the two bags to the hills, and then I had to walk up the hügel and dip down onto the other side, where I settled myself down in the valley between the two hills. Baby Jessie was still asleep, I laid down the blankets from her baby bag and put her down on them, praying she wouldn't wake up and scream and cry. I spread another blanket on oben, nach oben of her and looked up at the bright sun, rising above an empty hillside.
This is for all the kids who are bullied Von words. My teachers always say be bleacher people. Lift others up. I hope this poem gives that message to others.
Du yell at me
mean words.
They
pierce my heart.
I say its ok.
I Bewegen on.
But the words
still have power.
They still hurt
me.
My friends
tell me
its a big deal,
and that I
need to tell
a teacher.
But I say im fine.
Im really not.
I want to
believe
that im fine,
I want to
believe that
it was
nothing.
But it was
something.
Words always
have power.
Enough power to
strike me
down,
oder lift
me up.
Why must
Du hurt
me?
Du yell at me
mean words.
They
pierce my heart.
I say its ok.
I Bewegen on.
But the words
still have power.
They still hurt
me.
My friends
tell me
its a big deal,
and that I
need to tell
a teacher.
But I say im fine.
Im really not.
I want to
believe
that im fine,
I want to
believe that
it was
nothing.
But it was
something.
Words always
have power.
Enough power to
strike me
down,
oder lift
me up.
Why must
Du hurt
me?
I live in my opinion possibly the most ghetto town in the United States, Pittsburgh. People have been committing suicide all over town. Population all over town has been decreasing, fast. Some of my Friends were so depressed that they were thinking about "joining the crowd". I wouldn't live without my friends. I don't want my Friends to go as well as my mom and dad. Yes, I'm an orphan. I've been an orphan for about three weeks. My Friends have disappeared. I think they went to Clarion; but I could be wrong. There have been tons of fights at my school. Most of the people that were committing suicide were middle school and high school aged. I was getting really tired really fast. I climbed up in a baum and found a comfortable spot and fell asleep. Weiter thing I knew, I was tied up on a pole.
Sorry for cliffhangers....
Sorry for cliffhangers....