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Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2006 5:44 pm
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Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2006 6:08 pm
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Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2006 6:10 pm
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Posted: Mon Oct 02, 2006 6:16 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2006 5:10 pm
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Posted: Tue Oct 03, 2006 10:48 pm
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Wow, I absolutely loved it. It really resonated with me as I was badly bullied as a child. This poem I wrote called 'Child In The Mirror' is very much related in my eyes.
Child in the mirror, Insubstantial, Are you really there? Lost inside their lies,
You have lots of friends,
The ones that throw tanbark? And cheer when you run away, The ones that hide when you come out to play?
He died in peace,
The rose you placed in his frozen hand, Blood seeping through his blue veined fingers, The poem you wrote, The first poem you ever wrote, Did they lie to you? Did he die in pain?
You look beautiful,
Dance in your empty circle, 10 feet wide, To the music of their mockery. Destroyed by their indifference,
You’re special,
Slapped in the face, Goaded beyond endurance, Blamed for wrongs you never committed, Betrayed by anyone you ever trusted, As though you couldn’t hear or see them, Sneering triumphantly When they stabbed you in the back.
Alone in the library, Advanced beyond your years, Wizened by pain, Naive in your isolation.
Laughing children playing a game, You’re the victim, A necessary sacrifice, Dead child walking.
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Posted: Wed Oct 04, 2006 7:42 am
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Posted: Wed Oct 04, 2006 9:14 am
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Posted: Wed Oct 04, 2006 5:35 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 04, 2006 5:55 pm
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Posted: Wed Oct 04, 2006 6:07 pm
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Posted: Thu Oct 05, 2006 12:19 pm
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Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2006 4:47 pm
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citcat299 Wow, I absolutely loved it. It really resonated with me as I was badly bullied as a child. This poem I wrote called 'Child In The Mirror' is very much related in my eyes. Child in the mirror, Insubstantial, Are you really there? Lost inside their lies, You have lots of friends, The ones that throw tanbark? And cheer when you run away, The ones that hide when you come out to play? He died in peace, The rose you placed in his frozen hand, Blood seeping through his blue veined fingers, The poem you wrote, The first poem you ever wrote, Did they lie to you? Did he die in pain? You look beautiful, Dance in your empty circle, 10 feet wide, To the music of their mockery. Destroyed by their indifference, You’re special, Slapped in the face, Goaded beyond endurance, Blamed for wrongs you never committed, Betrayed by anyone you ever trusted, As though you couldn’t hear or see them, Sneering triumphantly When they stabbed you in the back. Alone in the library, Advanced beyond your years, Wizened by pain, Naive in your isolation. Laughing children playing a game, You’re the victim, A necessary sacrifice, Dead child walking.
Except yours is heaps better. biggrin
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Posted: Sat Oct 07, 2006 5:35 pm
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Posted: Sun Oct 08, 2006 8:29 pm
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