Lenore Lee

Monkeys looking like a man could be,
Climbing to get the fruit off of the tree.
Isn't that just like a human?
What makes them different to us?
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Functioning is difficult when in shock
Untimely end has come for all
Lack of food
Lack of hope
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When I ask others what they believe they say
"I'm a Christian, Jesus is my saviour"
"I'm an atheist, when I die I lie in a hole"
"I'm a Buddhist, I believe in peace"
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I once came across a rather ordinary man
Who believed in being perfectly normal
He smiled at me and took my hand
And kissed it in a manner quite formal
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I believe ability makes us intelligent, it distinguishes us from animals
I believe all have the ability to learn, to create art, to love
I believe we can let our ability go to waste, or we can let it flourish
I believe our ability that makes us human is our intelligence and good judgement
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Your eyes are glistening with unshed tears
I've watched you grow through all these years
I can't comfort you, I don't know how
Though I wish to stop your pain right now
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Everyone kneels as you walk into the room,
It seems as if you’re made of gloom.
Mist for body, shadows for clothes,
Who you are everybody knows.
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Man considered dumb,
Retardation sufferer.
Lost inside the world.
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Pennywise the clown just won't die
It is evil enough to make me sigh
It says It wants to make me float
Just like Georgie's paper boat
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I look upon my Nanna's shallow form,
Her sunken eyes show an unending storm.
Tubes stuck in her arms, neck and belly,
She strains her eyes to watch the telly.
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'I went to a party mum,
I know what you'd say.
You'd say not to drink mum,
But I drank anyway.
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I look down at the people, I worry about their woes
I worry about their joys, their friends, their foes
I worry about their lives and the way they live it
I worry about their dreams and wonder if they’ll heed it
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I’m not like other children my age.
The children my age are precarious fools,
Whose actions are unjustified.
I don’t understand why they do as they do,
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I cry and I don't know why,
I vent and stress,
I struggle in a mess,
I scream and feel frustrated,
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I look around this joyful room,
Amongst the peaceful teens
This is perhaps the only class
Where students are not machines
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Deep in the darkness horrors lurk
Horrors of a homophobic racist jerk
Horrors of a life destroyed by family
Horrors of person who wanders idly
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Do not conform to the ways
‘The ways' are but a way to capture your spirit,
To break your heart,
To kill your soul.
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A land of peace is overrated.
The dream of it is seriously out-dated,
Because peace is truly non-existent
The dream of it is only ever lent
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Inside our house you'll find crannies and nooks.
Crevices and cracks and fissures and books!
Books under the bed and on the floor,
Books around the table and beside the door,
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A teardropp falls from a lady's eye,
Misery seeps into her being,
She gives a deep, breathy, longing sigh,
And dreams about believing.
...