He did not make itA slight rainCame over the bus stopAs the little boyWith the balloonStands with youHe feels disjointedYou speak to himKnowing his painThe bus stop is clearThe road busyAnd you stand forJust a momentTelling himAbout your daysAnd you turn awayRealising the busHas arrivedAnd you talkSlowly into your iphoneNot realisingThe boy did not get onAnd all you hear fromThe distanceIs, "I'm sorry"And the balloon flying upwardsThis poem is dedicated to a 19 year old survivor, whom chose a different path to me in life.May he rest in peace.Dany 1993 to August 2012
Three DoorsThree doors.Stuck in a room; sitting all aloneThe little girl cries; no one cares from homeA little single tear; dies there from her eyesIt starts to roll down; holding as she criesAnd darkness in the room, she looks out aheadSurrounding her slowly; are three doors insteadThey are all standing there; ready to exploreShe just looks at them; wanting to ignoreShe gingerly gets up; in the room of loss and despairDoes it really matter; does anyone really care?And she goes over; to the door marked number oneIts now coloured black; it really looks like no funAnd gingerly she opens; that door there of disgraceShe just sits there and gets ready; the door slams in her face!And there it hits her nose; the blood pours down her cheeksThe black eye she gets; keeps her going for weeks and weeksWhy venture to door two; she says in her mindRemembering the door slam; was that all she would find??So getting the courage again; she opens the doorAnd little whispers of I don't believe yo
The NoteIt caught your eyeThat little girlHolding the noteThat felt so unrealIt came across youAs you wandered pastScurrying quicklyWay too fastShe stands in purpleHer hair tied in bowsA tear there wellingWhile no one knowsAnd she just sits thereListening to what you sayRemembering backRemembering yesterdayShe could say somethingRisk it allPrepare herself for theSudden fallToss all those imagesFrom her soul bewareAnd just trustThat others will careBut as you lean closerTo what she saysWhat has been giving herSleepless daysWhat horror she holdsShe cannot sayThe images live within herNight and dayShe sits thereScribbles something downHer tears there wellingHer forehead in a frownAnd there she holds itShe makes it mineShe holds up a noteSimply reading "I'm fine"
VenomShe sits thereSurrounded by her spidersHer adoring spidersLovely, she works amongst themIn the zooPetting them, being with themUnderstanding themHer thin rimmed glassesHiding her smiling eyesAs she sits thereAnd feeds her next spiderFlies, slowly one by oneWith tweezersShe lovingly milks their venomSlowly day by daySo that others willGet the livesaving dropsAnd as she reaches downShe feels her legIt is now plasticWhere they had toCut it offTo save her lifeBecause her pet spiderNearly killed herAnd she looks at youWith lovely caring eyesSayingNow I surround myself with spidersSo you don't have to endure