QUOTE (Angry Poets)The anger swells like inflated limbs
tossed in the shuffle of animalistic
dancing; we march to the rhythm of
our guerrilla tactics; move from the bedroom
to the kitchen before family hears;
speak absently, while whispering
'cause they might be listening.
We are mad; we're outcast in our home,
our blood runs thick through
our veins... we bleed
the same way. We're flesh and blood,
fresh or coagulated... it's still red and as
thick as our accent filtering
through our poetic musings
when we recite and scream
rhymes we recycle.
QUOTE (They used to call us Goths)White-noise and depressing songs
became my pubescent lullabies
when a blade to the wrists
took strength, not cowardice.
We were once proud to say we slit
but now, ashamed, we hide our scars
beneath mesh gloves and leather belts
and matching fishnet shirts.
-- The forum seems to kill the spacing/enjambments.--
This post has been edited by Soletaken Peach: 22 September 2009 - 02:29 AM