Captured; Trapped.

[RippingxRoses]

Fake that precious smile, love,
Fake it one last time.
I know Heaven is quite above,
Aren't you curious to know if it's a lie?
Darling, you'll never fade,
Not from my heart,
And love, you're simply divine.
At the beginning, the very start,
I knew that you were mine.
Starts with a smile,
Ends with flair.
Walking for miles,
Everyone stares.
I can't understand,
What their reasons might be,
Perhaps it's my hands,
Binded like my feet.
I'm a prisoner of this lovely cell,
You know this now,
I live in Hell.
The devil comes, he takes a bow.
His grin is quite the charmer.
Satan's rude, and quite so sly.
His skin is tough like armor.
Somehow, someway, I caught his eye...
His lovely hair to his smile,
Satan is evil,
Nothing's worthwhile.
That's all I can conclude in this place,
I have nothing left,
Not even my own fate.
But don't cry,
Don't scream,
He's not watching you, too.
It's only me.

[The_Different]

Brandi, please put a better one up. And your emo, not gothic.

[RippingxRoses]

Originally Posted by The_Different

Brandi, please put a better one up. And your emo, not gothic.

Emo? Nah.

Caitlin, I like this one.
But if you insist, I shall do so and place another one in this thread, for I'm not wasting my time creating another thread.

[RippingxRoses]

I sit alone, thinking deep,
All of those mysteries running about.
By now, I should be asleep.
But I hear my parents being loud.

I hear glass breaking and I know my mom's passed out,
My dad will come for me next, without a single doubt.

If only someone would listen to my pleas.
Somebody, I need help, can't anybody hear me?

Dad stumbles in, a broken beer bottle raised over his head.
He wants to know why I'm not yet in bed.

I cower to the corner, a tear strays down my cheek.
He hits me so hard that I can barely think.

There's going to be a bruise by morning,
But it's not daddy's fault.
He's drunk, and he's grumpy.
And mommy couldn't get him to stop.

But never can I blame him,
It's only because of the beer.
When he's not drinking he's saner,
but he only drinks when he's here.

I think it's because of mommy,
But I'd never say it to her face.
Tomorrow I'll have to use something...
To hide the bruises that daddy makes.

He kicks me around, tells me stand up.
Daddy tells me to fight like a man.
But he doesn't realize that I'm not a son.
I suppose I should fight back, maybe throw a punch.

But I'm weak, and I'm tired.
And he's hurting me too much.
I plead silently with my tears, hearing the sound of something crack.
I feel numbness in my left arm, but I don't know where it's at.

If I die, please tell my mom,
That I always had her to blame.
Tell her that she could have stopped,
My daddy's terrible ways.

Eventually, the drunk man falls.
And I manage to stand.
The phones are disconnected,
And my mommy won't awake.

I think mommy's dead,
and it's way too late.

I guess that's how life works,
People can hurt you most.
But nobody's ever hurt me,
As much as my own ghost.

I can hear daddy standing,
And I'm trembling in numb fear.
Maybe he won't see me.
If only I weren't here.

But I know he's going to beat me,
At least until I can't breathe.
He'll say it's all my fault,
And call me terrible names.

Daddy's just this way sometimes,
So please, God, don't get mad.
Let him into heaven.
He's really not so bad.

I kind of wish he'd stop hurting me,
It just makes him even worse.
He tells me he's sorry every morning,
That he was such a jerk.

Every night it's the same though,
He goes for mommy first.
I guess that now it's my turn,
To get my just desserts.

[Ishan]

My god! Is this for real?

[badteccy]

what the christ?

[RippingxRoses]

Hn... I'll take those both as compliments, and of course it's not real; though Child abuse is quite so a horror in this realm which may as well be named Hell.

However, I was bored. And when I'm bored, I write.

[JCC]

Originally Posted by RippingxRoses

However, I was bored. And when I'm bored, I write.

Wrong mindset for a poet.

[lostintranslation]

I like that the speaker only "kind of" wishes his dad would stop beating him. Oh damn, he just broke my arm and killed my mom, I sort of wish he would stop, but hey, I'm more indifferent than anything. I mean, I have two arms after all, so one broken arm isn't the biggest deal.

Beyond the "kind of", it was an intriguing piece.

[manequin]

Originally Posted by JCC

Wrong mindset for a poet.

What he said. It comes from emotion. Deep within you. Not boredom. Boredom spawns slopy unimaginative poetry. It dosn't feel anything. I read your poetry and feel absolutely jack shit. You should be pouring your soul into poems. Not doing it because your bored.