We Are Broken
They call us worthless, useless, and wretched. They look at us and sneer. We start to believe them and we start to think there is nothing right about us. We call ourselves fat, ugly, even horrid. We think the world would be better off without us. We think we can control it through the pain. We think that nobody will ever love us, or care for us, or be there for us. And we listen to the lies. We soak them in until they no longer are lies. They become truth to us, and we cry, and hurt, and are filled with depression. They don't apologize, they egg us on. They call us the liars. They force us to become addicted to it all. Without it, we have nothing. The only thing keeping us alive is the pain. It is our only control. Suicide becomes the only answer. We think of when, and where, and how to do it. We think that no one will notice us when we're gone. We think that everything will continue the same as it was, but it won't.
They'll lie and say how beautiful we were. They will lie and speak stories that never happened. They will tell others that it was a tragedy that we passed, even though that's what they wanted all along. They will pretend to care on the outside, and be filled with happiness on the inside. Nobody will know the truth, or why we took our own lives, because they all will believe the lies.
Then we will be forgotten. We will disappear from everyone's minds, and we will be gone, forever.
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Comments about this poem (We Are Broken by Crystal Blanchette )
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
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