Brent Martin.

High School. - Poem by Brent Martin.

You pretend to be the dream,
The one everyone wants to be.
But it's all just a lie,
You're as stuffed up as I.

For the first two years,
I was locked up.
I was the plague,
All shut up.

I couldn't be free,
Couldn't be me,
I hid it all,
Behind my wall.

But I went away,
Last holiday,
I got back,
To the right track.

How's the 'game' going?
Is it still so fun?
Cause Jesus died for me,
I've already won.

And now your words have no affect,
Does my happiness have you vexed?
Because i'm not a lie,
This laughter, this smile...
No need to stay,
It'll be here for a while.

Does my smile anger you?
Does it make it all so hard,
To keep the status-quo,
Keep up your big facade?

Well I can tell,
Your parents must be so proud.
They have a neanderthal for a son,
So 'big', so 'tough', so loud.

I could say I wasn't angry,
But that would be a lie.
Either way it makes no difference,
One day, (I hope) you'll die.

Have no fear,
I'll see you there,
That awesome day of days.
But promise me,
That when i comes,
You'll stop being so fake.

And when Satan acsends,
From the firey steps of hell,
I might try to make ammends,
With those words that you did tell.

I'll go to church on Sunday,
And I will pray for you,
Turn up to school on Monday,
Tell me, what will you do?

It's not easy to be me,
But I make do just fine,
Keeping myself safe,
This fragile heart of mine.

But nothing you say will get to me,
Yes, it's clear that much I know.
And nothing you throw will harm me,
(At least not that I will show)

For now at least, i'm content.
As more and more days go by,
Because I know i'm worth it all,
It was for me that Christ did die.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, February 15, 2010

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