You say "Freedom of speech" is to destroy the mold,
Yet you turn against an adolescent boy,
Immature, ignorant, only sixteen summers old.

Expressing his confusion, and burning resentment,
With words that scald, expressions that scream,
Opinions that spar with the voice of societal assent.

Instantly in seconds, the barrel of Justice and Laws,
Is directed between the eyes of the wretched,
The fury of the people, cold as the bullet only he saw.

Nary a scream we heard as the trigger,
Blasts off into oblivion, blowing out,
Chunks of creativity and blood of passion.

*"You shouldn't have said that,
It's wrong what you said,
Think twice before you pen, speak with caution."

There was the first look,
     It snapped by in a second;
There was the second look,
     It was alluringly fecund.
Like reading page one again
     On the face of a friend;
Don't close the book,
     Take a second look.

I'm the loser walking down the street,
Whose eyes are downcast, fixed on his feet,
With nothing to live for, nothing to fight,
Just another day in the dark sans light.

In the clouded mirror, all he sees,
Is worthless trash lost in a bottomless sea,
Covered in scars from strangers on the streets,
Each a reminder of unforgettable defeats.

He doesn't know when or even the whys,
He's become afraid of people's eyes,
To look into the emptiness and see nothing,
To see them stare right through, unseeing.

He's the loser, crying on the streets,
Who has sank to the ground, down to his feet,
Nobody to turn to, nobody to care,
As the ache in his soul becomes too much to bear.

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"

The word of a snail on the plate of a leaf?
It is not mine. Do not accept it.

Acetic acid in a sealed tin?
Do not accept it. It is not genuine.

A ring of gold with the sun in it?
Lies. Lies and a grief.

Frost on a leaf, the immaculate
Cauldron, talking and crackling

All to itself on the top of each
Of nine black Alps.

A disturbance in mirrors,
The sea shattering its grey one ----

Love, love, my season.

i have found what you are like
the rain,

            (Who feathers frightened fields
with the superior dust-of-sleep. wields

easily the pale club of the wind
and swirled justly souls of flower strike

the air in utterable coolness

deeds of green thrilling light
                                  with thinned

newfragile yellows

                      lurch and.press

—in the woods
                      which
                              stutter
                                        and

                                              sing
And the coolness of your smile is
stirringofbirds between my arms;but
i should rather than anything
have(almost when hugeness will shut
quietly)almost,
                  your kiss

i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                       Alive
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
                                       in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
                                            Will i complete the mystery
                                            of my flesh
I will rise
               After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
             And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

The world outside my home is an ugly place.
People call me names
People bully me
People just hate me
And I don't know why.
What did I ever do to them that made them
feel such hate towards me?

Some days I come home with bruises on my knees
Or just simply with tears running down my face.
As much as I didn't want to face the horrors
that awaited me outside each day, I still did.

And now, each time I look at my scars from the past,
It reminds me of the brave and invincible person I am
today.