lips pursed
the cherried curse
everyone says
they can quit at first
the rush in the head
the feeling of dread
the way that the clouds
crawl into your bed
they warn you'll be dead
the dangers they spread
will never truly
get into your head
cutting it off
the words, they're lies
so what if we die?
we're young, it's fine
it's the way it goes
everybody knows
that we're crashing
and breaking
really, it shows,
but the sad point is
that nobody cares
it's education
or idiocy
not a cry of despair
a cry for help
where everybody else
points and jeers
at the shells of ourselves
we breathe and we die
a puff and a lie
a veiled smokescreen
and a teenage dream,
there is no dream
only filters and screens
where the pixels lie
and the unwoke die-
we know what we're doing.
cherries and berries
we know that they'll bury us
in regret and outcry
that the system's not good enough!
the system is what broke us
but they're trying to fix
what we knew we couldn't.
instead we got our fix
instead of fighting with sticks
when the ones we oppose?
they have guns.
they'll ban how we cope
so the parents have hope
and the cycle will just rerun.
if you see the smoke,
know that we choke
in anguish and not for fun.
YOU ARE READING
cherries & buries
Poetryi've dabbled in poetry for a decade now, and this is my third collection. cherries & buries is a scream into the void, an unspoken truth, a desperate attempt to romanticize my failings. a toast, perhaps; to everyone who ever cared about me.
