Lisha Len
+14When does anger, devourer souls…
When does love no longer know…
Which direction my heart is in…
Only that it’s somewhere…
Beneath my skin…
I want to break you…
Does that make me a monster???
I want to hate you…
It’s what I’m after…
I want to hear your screams…
like I heard mine…
I want to stop hearing…
That you’re doing fine…
Split to pieces…
Rip to shreds…
I want you out…
I want you dead…
Feel my pain that’s tainted me…
Remember all my forgotten pleas…
Maybe the answer is I’m pained…
See these horns that I have gained…
Help from you was needed of course…
You’ve made me like this…
Do you feel the remorse?
This poem was written/submitted by lisha len.
+10You made me feel happy
You made me feel guilt
You burned down the bridges
That you helped me build
You shoved me off the edge
And caught me when I fell
You ripped apart my heart
But mended it as well
You wiped away the tears
The ones you made me cry
You broke both of the wings
You’d given me to fly
You bruised me with your words
And took the pain away
You made me feel inferior
And got me through another day
You start at the end
And end at the start
You pieced me back together
When you tore me apart
You hurt me and scarred me
Then cushioned the blow
So, please, tell me
Should I let go?
This poem was written/submitted by lisha len.
+16 She hangs her head in disgust and shame.
Who is she? What is her name?
She might stand straight and might stand tall.
But in her mind she feels so small.
She takes one step forward but three steps back.
Trying to block the next mental attack.
In her mind, she slowly breaks.
A broken record of her mistakes.
Her knees grow weak, she then stumbles.
Suddenly the world around her crumbles.
She tries to block the thoughts in her mind.
But they have a hold, they start to bind.
They start to squeeze and pull tight.
She feels the pain and feels the bite.
She presses her hands to her head.
To her horror, her wrists are stained red.
She watches the blood slide slowly down.
Wishing, in the blood, her pain will drown.
The thoughts have control, they have her bound.
She wishes that salvation could be found.
She starts to scream and starts to shout.
Her mind is starting to fill with doubt.
Who is she? She can’t remember.
Even though it hurts, she draws a breath.
Through her agony, she screams for death.
Her heart beats but it starts to slow.
Devilish thoughts then start to grow.
One last scream as they take control.
She has no heart, mind or soul.
Here one moment and gone the next
Her last breath will kiss the dawn.
She lays her head down and sighs real deep.
Forever to lay there in her sleep.
This poem was written/submitted by Michael Dumeir/ lisha len.
+21 You watched her silently as her heart broke.
You saw the hurt in her eyes as she told each joke.
You could hear the pain behind her voice.
You could see the long sleeves weren’t of choice.
All she needs is a hand to pull that razor from her clenching hands.
Something more hid behind that smile.
Something that wasn’t on her school file.
Did you know her parents got divorced this year?
That her Dad moving out was her biggest fear?
She got into drugs just last week.
She’s been so high at times that she’s forgotten how to speak.
Did you know all she wants is a friend?
All she wants is for the pain to end.
She sits in class, trying her very best.
She comes back the next day to a failed test.
It’s all going downhill day after day.
You think you see it, but there’s nothing you say.
She’s thinking thoughts she knows she shouldn’t.
She wants to do things she normally wouldn’t.
Her Dad’s gone now,
her Mom works all the time.
A lonely child all on her own tonight.
She thinks she’s lost her only fight.
The high’s wearing off, she needs to end this.
Her Dad only left a gun, and now it insists.
She reaches for the trigger, replays the parents’ fights.
She cries as she remembers all those loud nights.
One little squeeze, and she’s dead on the ground.
A broken girl from a broken home, and she never made a sound.
Now the girl haunts her parents, it was their fear.
They lost their girl, they both start to tear.
One man, one woman, both hold a story.
As for their daughter, her ended glory.
They shouldn’t have fought, they were to blame.
Her mother cries as her Father screams out her name.
This poem was written/submitted by lisha len.
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