A Million Puppets


United States
41° 24' 2.6424" N, 73° 45' 34.3908" W

He is a boy who will never give smiles,
Save those for the blood on bathroom tiles,
A pallid gaunt face with stars in its eyes,
Leaving their tracks whenever he cries,
He does not eat, beauty is thin,
Delicate bones pushing at skin,
Yellowing teeth and stomach bile,
Even he needs food once in a while,
Track marks cover his long slender arms,
Drugs help him cope with society’s harms,
He is not well liked and this he knows,
Everyone in school is one of his foes,
Their words decimate his mental health,
He only feels better when hurting himself.

Today he is here, tomorrow he’ll be gone,
He’s tired and been abused for too long,
A knot and a chair, a necklace pulled snug,
He’ll leave this world in a rope’s bristled hug,
Perhaps his mind will change, feet in the air,
Desperately trying to reach a tipped chair,
Feet that kick and scarred arms that flail,
If his lungs had air then he would wail,
But the knot shall be strong, its hold true,
He’ll sputter and cry, lips turning blue.

Next time your mouth opens to speak hate,
Think of those who share this cruel fate,
A million puppets on a million strings,
Necks all adorned by morbid rings,
You can not know another’s life,
You should not add to their strife,
No one lives with a sorrowless heart,
Don’t shoot at them insult’s poison dart,
You do not know what others go through,
Do you want their last thought to be an angry one of you?


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