Chills to my spine
And hand over heart
Tears to my eyes
You'll hear me wine
Head on my desk
Liquid on my cheeks
Blood on my hands
This scene grotesque
Rips in my jeans
Makeup on my face
Dye in my hair
Isn't this what you except
Of teens?
Screw ups
Losers
Rebels
No-goods
You expect this
You will get this
You want this?
You ARE this
Attention-seeking
Slit your wrists
And spread the word
Rumors leaking
Cry at school where the World
Can laugh
Then complain about people talking
You stand out tall, a giraffe
Don't broadcast your problems
If you cant handle the criticism
Don't switch on the megaphone
And be surprised when you make headlines
Don't be a teenager
Everybody loves to hate
Be a teenager
Who doesn't dangle the bait
Change the stereotypes
And be someone real
Don't end up behind bars
Clothed in stripes
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i'm glad someone realizes whats going on