Category: Writers Block
You can hear the drums beating in the stands
pounding out the chant of a thousand hands
from a lost generation that's been hurt too much
when we came out they handed us a crutch.
They tell us we're living in better times.
Tell that to the tears falling from our eyes
from drugs to guns man I've seen it all
when was there peace I can't recall.
Every morning I'd go to school to learn arithmetic
and the golden rule.
The big teacher taught right from wrong
but in the playground right never lasted long
You see I learned more about reality
Getting kicked around and bloody--kneed.
I spent my life curled in a ball
my hand broken from punching the wall.
I tried to cry but the tears never came
Dig your nails deeper man , it's all the same
I was consumed by hate by the age of 12
That into my heart, I dare not delve.
Every night I'd ask the stars above
"Don't let me forget how to feel love"
Right and wrong change direction like a breeze
when your living life on your knees
I took justice, in my hands because the teacher wasn't there
to take a stand. Though I was punished I know not why
Right then I had to fight back or die
But now we'er tired of living in your world
Consider this the 1st stone hurled
too many have hurt
too many have paid
You've been deaf too long
even though you knew the truth all along
I ask you "Can you hear?"
The once soft chorus is growing louder
you can hear it in the stands
pounding out the chant of 1,000 hands.
This might be the best thing you've ever written that I've read.
Maybe it isn't autobiographical, but, those feelings and that knowledge comes from somewhere. At least, it touched something in me.
Good job and thanks for posting it.
Bob
I thought this was good, too. It's one of those pieces that people can incorporate into their own thoughts and personal situations. Good job.
Thank you both
I was inspired by Trivium.
It's very good, but you do need punctuations at the end of every line. If nothing fits, try a comma.