The Weirdo

January 14, 2011
He Walks The Halls Of School
With His Head Down Below.
Bang! Bang! Split! Splat!
Oh The Words That They Throw.
He Is The Kid, The Outcast
That You Will Never Know.
He Is The Freak, He Is The Geek
He Is The Weirdo.

He Walks Home In The Night,
Click! Clack! Squish! Squish!
How Can He Feel Love,
When Everyday He Is Pushed?
Push! Push! Crush! Crush!
And He Falls Into The Snow,
Not As An Innocent Boy,
But As The Weirdo.

He Opens The Door
To His Hellish Home,
Rackety! Crack!
The Sound Of Plates Thrown.
Smick! Smack! Goes The Man,
As He Drops His Beer Can.
Plit! Plat! Goes The Boy
As He Falls To The Floor.
Snout! Snout! Goes The Mouth
As The Mother Begs For More.
Swish! Swish! Goes The Man,
As I Near The Kitchen Drawer.
Ka! Ching! Goes The Knife!
As The Man Runs Out The Door.
I Head To My Room With The Knife In My Hand.
Questions Echo In My Head “Will I Be A Better Man?”
“Will They Ever Understand?”
“Will The Truth Ever Be Known?”
Or “Will I Wake Up Everyday As The Weirdo?”

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