Well switching a blade from outside and in
I heard a clutter from the window seal
It was a cutting sound; it mimicked a blade across skin
It scared me to look but I do feel what I feel
A sense of perversion I’ll never fill

The steps that hurled, on this Halloween night
Many, Many whispers from my lawn’s green
I felt nothing more then a sudden fright, but something is not right
I felt a grasp in my head, something inside of me
This perversion I can’t seem to reveal
O! This way I do feel

Laughter comes across a remorseful mouth
My own face in the reflection suddenly detailed
A liar, A Fraud, A Pervert, A Sloth
My laughter refrains, though the heart never grows frail
My two hands Are red, my skin, It never pales

O! Murder of a child some say
Could drive the puritans to walk in chains
But I call those who say, fibbers in there ways
For I not only walk but contain my sane

by Ray Mesa

Comments (2)

Thank you Kristy for writing this. I think all young teens ought to read this poem. Sincerely, Connie Webb
A message out there to those caught up in the monotone of fashion trends and hollowing one's self to fit into them - reminiscent of Baz Luhrmann's remarkable line, 'Do NOT read beauty magazines, they will only make you feel UGLY.' A thoughtful read. - K.