A Sad Reality (May 19, 2016)

Silence

Cut the soul

Like a hot knife

Through butter.

As it weeps

Bitter salty tears

That corrodes everything

They touch.

Turning

A confident young child

Into a cowering baby.

Scared

Of its own shadow

And loud noises.

The punches

Fall like

A steady rainstorm

Upon the body.

The runoff collects

In red pools

Staining everything

In a shade of rust.

That comes

Into contact

With it.

People

Gather around

To watch

The latest

Afterschool fight.

Letting loose

Their blood thirsty

Savage side

In a circle of hate.

Where

All rules of war

Don't exist.

Except

Just win.

"Forget

That poor excuse

Who got pommelled

Within inches

Of their life.

"Join the crowd

In celebrating
The glorious victory

Over that wimp."

Never mind

The victor is

Most despite bully

In the school.

Or that

The vanquished

Will go home

And attempt suicide

Tonight.

Only failing

Because

The knot came

Loose.

Therisa © 2016

Author's note: There are elements of my own life, interweaved, within the above poem. As for those people, who think, things will get better, are totally out to lunch, in believing a simplex slogan, will change a person's life. Sorry, honey that only works, in Hollywood. What is really needed, is a strong supporting network that breaks through the sense of isolation, which is compounded by a feeling of helplessness and hopelessness, that this type of oppression will ever end.

I think, if this type of support had existed, for me, during the 1970s and 1980s, I wouldn't be so traumatized and suffering severely, from mental illness, like I am. I know, only speculation, on my part, but leading thought is proving that measures that support and break through isolation, will reduce occurrence of mental illness and suicide attempts. Something, the current health system has been short, in delivering.