Everybody judges my book by its cover,
on the outside I'm happy but underneath I suffer.
With memories of pain, hatred and sorrow
and thoughts of 'maybe not tomorrow'
If there's one things I've learnt its that no-one cares
and they'll never feel the same unless they get to feel this scare.
No-one knows what its like to go through,
they refuse to believe it and deny that its true.
They make it sound as if this terror doesn't exist.
As if it will fade away just like the mist.
They don't know what its like to be abused;
the torture the pain of being used.
DO they really believe what they say they believe?
Is equality really what they want to achieve?
I know that this isn't somethings that many understand.
its a matter of if they want to or if they can.
They treat us like animals; predators to prey.
they think themselves superior and so they deny us our say.
They talk about teamwork, respect and equality
whilst denying us love and care for cruelty.
They constantly abuse us and often beat us
they make us feel worthless and that there's no-one to trust.
Having got away from this and able to live life.
I know that those scars will never die.
So why don't you stand up for what's right?
Stand and be counted for what's in plain sight?
You see this on the news, anytime, anywhere
whilst others consider of how their lives aren't fair.
The people that make these actions are cold at heart.
But were once considered unique and smart.
Many possibly were bullied into being this way,
after being scared, terrified and denied their say.
This was the first ever poem that I properly wrote. It's generally about how I see pain. It's invisible and only the strongest of people will hide it. The weakest? You see them. They are terrorists set on getting revenge and relentless in getting it. They let the cruelty that they endured to overrun them. they prefer to focus on it. Live it. Achieve it. Because, in the end they fell they will be happy. That it will make up for every piece of cruelty that they have been forced to live. But what will they/do they find? I think that those with actual hearts will feel empty at the end of it. As for myself, I classify everything under the file named 'Experience' because I learnt the wisest and most valuable lesson at the youngest of ages.
That lesson was forgiveness.
This was written at 13 years old.
Nice one Letitia! You really made us feel your pain....
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