A Generation Lost at Sea

By CW   

People always say to stop complaining.
You are raised up being told
How strong you have to be.
Adults look down on you with annoyance when you cry.

At the age of five, I stubbed my toe
And was told not to cry.
I was sent to my room
Until I could get control of myself.
I was scolded for showing sinewy,
For feeling pain.

When I was seven, I was told to
Quit complaining.
There were children out there
That didn’t have dinner that night.
I should be satisfied with whatever
Was placed in front of me.
Everyone around me had it worse.

When I was thirteen,
I shoved a blanket in my mouth
So no one
Could hear me cry.
Tears ran down my face in an unending flow,
Sobs rocked my body.

I couldn’t tell anyone of the monsters eating me alive
Because people had it worse.
People always had it worse,
I wasn’t allowed to complain.
I took close to thirty pills that night.

The next morning, I told the nurses in the ER i was fine,
Because my whole life I was told I was.
I had to be fine because everytime
I tried to be something else,
I was told I was wrong.
Always wrong, never right
And I still carry that mentality with me.

I was an empty shell.
I was a walking corpse,
My face was as pale as could be.
Everyday, a corpse awaiting to be buried.
I dreamt of how sweet it would
Be to feel all that pain at once,
Then never again.

My generation is fractured because
We were raised to be.
We grew up with
A knife tearing into the necks of the black sheep
Among a white fleet.
We weren’t given the chance to be anything else,
We had to be brick walls.

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