Stephanie Boccia Poems

Not always sure what things called sins may be,
I am sure of one sin I have done.
It was 10 years ago when I was a young child,
I sat on the floor, marker in hand, ready but not for fun.
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Knowing that I might not have another chance to see her breaks my heart in two. Knowing that there might not be just one other day where I could hold her in my arms feels so wrong. Knowing that no matter what I do, or how hard I try, I can't keep her from fading out. Tuning out. Blocking me out.
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His skin… So pale…
His hair… So thin…
His lips… So brittle…
His eyes… So shallow...
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One crow stands alone.
Its family flew,
When no one knew,
Shivering loss to the bone.
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Popularity, that's the key.
See Sally? She's the one to be.
Skinny jeans, high ponytail
Do these things or you're sure to fail.
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Sick 0f crying
Tired of trying
Yeah, I'm smiling
But inside I'm dying.
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Screaming, Crying, feel like dying.
Cutting, tearing, please stop staring.

World is crumbling, done with stumbling.
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The sound of falling,
Found and calling.
The cry of screaming,
When death is dreaming.
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When you're young, you're meant to smile.
You're meant to laugh, dance, giggle, play, joke, love, and ask.
Your childhood is supposed to be filled with embrace.
It's supposed to be that small amount of time in your life when you are allowed to be free.
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Clear waters, no reflection
Running tears filled with rejection.
Warming hands without a print
Nothing less than a huge hint.
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