The Cycle
You think you know it all
A certificate on the wall means nothing
If you can't see what's in front of your eyes
The smiling faces of your students are just a facade
That drop as quickly as your back is turned
And with no eyes to see, it happens again
Never acknowledged by a teacher with no eyes
It starts and ends in an instant
Except for the girl who lives in the constant torment
Constant fear
That grows with every passing day
A torment that follows home
As the front door closes
Because her stepdad found no hope
At the bottom of another Whiskey bottle
A frustration that turns into fists
And black eyes
Black eyes that well with tears
That she buries in her pillow
When the pain is overwhelming
She finds peace in the company of a rusted blade
That slices just far enough
To remind her she is alive
I see her in the hallways with our friends
Captivated by the beauty in her smile
Her scars and black eyes always concealed with makeup and long sleeves
As she tells us not to worry
And the cycle continues with every passing day all because of the fists of a stepdad
Who found no hope at the bottom of another Whiskey bottle,
And the constant torment, constant fear
She bears with in every classroom
A horrible reality that proves
A certificate on the wall means nothing
If you can't see what's in front of your eyes