Miner One-Forty-Three;Mine Sixteen Report
I’m like a picture
All you see is the smile
But what you can’t see
Are the scars, the bruises, the thoughts,the disappointment of Miner One-Hundred-Forty-three
You don’t see the pain the regret. . .
But why fret to?
I mean, it’s what we humans do
Point out my flaws while you have flaws too
How your child games of names maims me
Then it came to me.
Why and try to talk, to vent,
when no one wants to listen.
Every piece of my heart is missing,
after giving each one away in the nice way.
Being thrown in Mine Sixteen
Just because I didn’t have the social bling.
Never to see the light up above
Just because I wanted to be loved.
Hide the reality of being lonely by keeping into fantasy
Where girls don’t have to be pretty, don’t have to be skinny
But can walk up there like the famous many
And yet those hopeful dreams
they keep coming to me
Where the outcasted mine children become kings
Instead of being dirty toy clowns
Being forced by personal ring masters, and mine generals to perform
To the scary popular horde
And we miners who wear our hearts on our sleeves
did the small anthem just to see
That if they saw our mining scars
Maybe, just maybe they’ll stop burning our cheeks
with their cruel words and cigars
But just re-join the dark reality of the society
of dream-broken,dirt-soaked,low-spoken girls and boys
who look for that golden beauty.