Bad Poetry About Blood. Poem by Ginny S.

i feel like i am a droplet of water
a small blot of water
dripped onto a sea of oil.

look at those poor kids in the third world
those poor kids everybody keeps talking about
they get beat up by their parents
every day beat down and sent by their government
to kill people they never experienced hate towards
and yet they look so happy
they are so happy to be alive.

in america
all you have to worry about is money
money and black nail polish
black nail polish and everybody's undying sympathy
well i'll say it then.
poor you.

well have you ever
had someone seriously try to dropp a bomb on you?
that's hate.
that's rage.
that's not wearing chains and korn t-shirts
and claiming with empty words
that you have cut yourself.
that's somebody who is seriously out of their mind.
do you want to be that?
or is there just some little kid inside of you
sitting on the floor
pounding his fists on the boards
demanding attention?

wake up, 'goth' kids.
you don't scare me.
you don't scare anybody.