I tried to write a poem and called it "Happy"
Because that was what I felt
My mother gave me a cookie,
and my hunger problem had been dealt
A boy on the crossroad waved on me,
And my father hit me with a belt.
There was a huge violet mark on my thigh
I didn't know why he hit me
and I couldn't ask my father why
I went to our small kitchen,
and saw my mother frying a chicken
I told her that father hit me and I was on pain
and begged her to tell father that he shouldn't do it again,
I was sad because she didn't listen to my plea
Instead, she said that the chicken tasted like a sour tea
I went to the bathroom and saw my father kissing my crying sister,
My father saw me and hit me with my mother's pressure cooker,
I was bleeding so I went to my room
There, I saw my brother sleeping with another man
My brother saw me and I ran
As I ran, I hoped that this bad things would end soon
When I reached my sister's room,
I went inside and saw blades lying next to a spoon
I picked it up and checked the time, it was noon
I closed my eyes and slashed three deep cuts on my wrist
Suddenly, I was pissed
I was pissed of my father
I was pissed of my mother
I was pissed of my brother
But I felt sorry for my sister
Using my sister's purple pen,
I wrote this poem on a crumbled paper
For her to know that there is a time,
that all she have to do is use a dime
to buy a blade for her wrist
P.S: Try not to be pissed
It is sad.
See you on the world above here
Or maybe, you can stay strong and just drink a beer
Good luck my sister,
I love you forever
and I want you to be happy
I sticked the crumbled paper on her diary's first page
A diary she started on her early age
I want to give the poem directly to her,
but I doubt I can manage--
