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Literature Text
Scarlet artists paints a picture
To see if she still feels you
Through these veins this paint beats quick
But the paint will never heal you
Scarlet artist tells no lies
She's okay and you believe her
Planning her next masterpiece
Waiting until you leave her
Artist swears she doesn't care
But I think she cares too much
Maybe she will feel again
With a bit of blood in luck
Little scarlet artist
Will you paint a picture now?
Razor blades and broken hearts
All that practice you know how
This is all your fault, you know
She can't feel you there
Paintbrush in the bathroom
How deep a cut will she dare?
The end of the poem, dear reader.
Subtle and final plot twist
Our little scarlet artists
slides her paintbrush down her wrists
Red paint out across the floor
Embrace her last design
The tick tock clock screams seconds
Till artist is out of time
Scarlet artist paints no more
And now she can not feel you
Silver streaks from long dried tears
In dead eyes that will never see you
To see if she still feels you
Through these veins this paint beats quick
But the paint will never heal you
Scarlet artist tells no lies
She's okay and you believe her
Planning her next masterpiece
Waiting until you leave her
Artist swears she doesn't care
But I think she cares too much
Maybe she will feel again
With a bit of blood in luck
Little scarlet artist
Will you paint a picture now?
Razor blades and broken hearts
All that practice you know how
This is all your fault, you know
She can't feel you there
Paintbrush in the bathroom
How deep a cut will she dare?
The end of the poem, dear reader.
Subtle and final plot twist
Our little scarlet artists
slides her paintbrush down her wrists
Red paint out across the floor
Embrace her last design
The tick tock clock screams seconds
Till artist is out of time
Scarlet artist paints no more
And now she can not feel you
Silver streaks from long dried tears
In dead eyes that will never see you
Literature
Child Abuse
She tries not to cry as her dad beats her harder with the bat. A small tear escapes from the corner of her eye. He hits her even harder as he sees the small spec of salt water run down her face. She curls up into a small ball and takes a brutual beating to her back. Luckily her dad is using the wooden baseball bat this time.
The next day she wakes up on the living room floor in the same position. She gets up slowly and makes sure her dad isn't around. She looks out the window, his truck's gone, he's gone to work. She quickly grabs her school bag and heads out the door.
On her walk to school she adjusts her jacket sleeves to hide the welts
Literature
Abuse
There was a girl in a suburban town,
So beautiful,
Her hair was brown.
Friends with everyone,
With her,
Life was fun.
Day after day,
In sweet teenage bliss,
No one would guess,
that she feels like this.
Never a frown,
No one would guess her life was crashing down.
No one could guess she was being beat,
Or the fate that she would meet.
She always had on her sleeves,
And always walked away fast as she leaves.
I never would've known of the bruise...
And then one day she was on the news.
It said:
"Today in a suburban town
A girl has died..."
Her hair was brown.
Her dad had beat her till she died.
Yet there is no
Literature
.Abuse.
Broken hearts hurt way too much,
Heart starts dying, tears and such.
I don't know why this hurts like hell,
I hate it when you scream and yell.
Through my eyes, it was all so dark,
I tried to hide those scars, that mark.
Get away from me, I want to be alone,
Especially when you hit me, and even break a bone.
You push me back, as I fall to my knees,
I don't know what to do, how to please.
My friends were all right about you,
But I was lovestruck and had no clue.
It's over now, but I lie 6 feet under,
During the rain, during the thunder.
He sets flowers on my grave, full of regret,
Something like this is hard to forget..
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copyright fragment
All content displayed in my gallery is copyrighted © *suteishiijein-poetry .
My work may NOT be reproduced, copied, edited, published, transmitted or uploaded in any way without my written permission..
© 2009 - 2024 suteishiijein-poetry
Comments13
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First line "Scarlet artists paints" you mistyped the word agreement. But that's okay, I knew what you meant.
I really liked this poem and the story of it is great, the naratting seems as a distant on looker helpless at what's to come, which is a little predictable but in all good.
I also really liked the flow of the piece. Some things I didn't like was how you called her 'scarlet artist'. It was very creative but sometimes confusing and didn't help the flow. In all I really liked this though and it has a pretty good far away reflective look at what bad choices can result in. Good job :]