A Tale of Two Suicides

He was only eight, so why'd they give him so much hate? He shouldn't be crying because someone called him a "pansy" or a "fairy"- especially when he barely knows his own body.

She was only eleven, so how could they treat her like she was a demon? She should be playing with make up and Barbie dolls, not with knives and rubber bands.

He's now fourteen and learning to tie nooses, when he could've been learning how to fish- and this is all because kids taunted him for wanting to study fashion.

She's sixteen now.
She should be shopping or hanging out with friends.
But, those same "friends" are the ones who mistreated her, set her up, and beat her up.
Claiming that they were only "teaching her a lesson".
No wonder she finds comfort in writing suicide letters.

They're eighteen. This should've been the best year of their adolescent lives- they should've been planning senior year and going to college next fall.
But, instead they're both lying in a casket.

And, so that was the tale of two suicides.

So, be careful what you say because your words do have power- they can either heal or they can kill.

This poem is about: 
My community
My country
Our world


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