Walking

The following poem is very much for mature audiences. It is raw. You will be offended.

Walking… oh, please… don’t notice me…

The ruining corridors of pain…
These hallowed halls of entropy…
What learning ‘pon the blackboard
With vile tutelage in your halls?
Delinquent roving gangs violate your corners.
The squalid gasconade tumbling around me…
Filling my ears… coloring my fears… bleeding my soul…
Head down, closed arms ‘cross my books…

Walking… oh, please… don’t notice me…

I won’t! I won’t play your game!
I won’t be part of your juvenile throng!
So now you want to punish me.
Think, together, you’ll teach me to belong.
You’re all trying to take me…
Wanting to penetrate my body…
Break me… thrust beyond… below…
Trying to penetrate my soul…

Walking … Oh GOD! … don’t touch me!

I’ll scream! I won’t go down without a fight!
Your sweating, eager, hating, hungry, frightened faces…
“Shit…