Silent Cry
by
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THIS KIND OF HATE He came into town, He’s new. Where he’s from they don’t know; They don’t want to meet him They just want him to go He doesn’t know what’s wrong; He seems a little out of place, He doesn’t know if it’s him they don’t like. They just don’t like his race. He likes it here, he’s not leaving. They burn his home, wreck his car, Not a motel in town will rent to him, But he’s still not going far. They bought him a ticket out of town, But getting to the bus stop, he was late. He’ll stay in town and make them see, That he’s used to this kind of hate. There’s one way he’s leaving, it’s hard. They are willing to do what they’ve said He won’t leave any other way, Till one day they find him dead. Read this poem and more inside
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About the Book
When you read these pages, you will see a part of my life and most of me. What I think of some of the time, you'll be able to look in to my mind. Read this one and much, much more by buying this book.
About the Author
I am forty years old. I grew up with a religious background from Southern California. I started writing at the early age of sixteen. I wound up homeless after graduating at the age of eighteen. As a scared young sheltered kid, I started experimenting with drugs, methamphetamine and pot, to deal with the rejection I was feeling. I decided to use meth and poetry as a coping method. Over the years, I have made mistakes and have regrets on the life I’ve led. I am now trying to turn my life around. I am trying to support myself and show others how to avoid the path I went down. My mission statement in life is simply this success or failure is measured by whether or not you teach your experiences to someone else.