Connection-Refused
New member
In response to a thread Skoran started in the Loneliness forum, I will now post something.
I won't bore you with the details of my life and why I'm here on this site.
I will simply share with you all a poem that I have had for several years now.
Its not mine, I did not write it.
I first read it on Usenet back in '03.
I kept it because it reminds me that no matter how bad my life might be or how bad I think it is, things can always get worse, and there will always be someone who suffers more than I.
############--Cut-Here--############
The 13 Tolls of Sorrow
The girl to my right sits at home alone,
And writes dark poetry,
And assumes she has,
A monopoly on pain.
The girl selling herself on the corner,
Knows different.
The boy to my left,
Just received apology letters,
From every University he applied to.
The woman that walks behind us,
Has not believed in God,
Since her little boy drowned in the family,
Swimming pool last August.
The man outside the hospital doors,
Pacing,
his lover is inside dying from AIDS,
And knows he is next.
The distraught man beside him,
Has a wife, who took years of trying,
And thousands of dollars of fertility drugs,
To get pregnant, just gave birth,
To a still born first son.
The nursery painted, every dream shattered,
They'd do anything for the baby,
Of the pregnant young girl,
Standing nervously outside the clinic,
Innocence's death is scheduled for 2:30.
They've never met,
And its 2:29.
The girl at the small cemetery across,
From the hospital is,
Visiting her mother's grave,
Who was killed by a careless driver,
And is astounded by the,
Continuous reproduction of wreaths,
Even a month later.
At the other end of the cemetery,
A boy is visiting his brother,
Who was that driver, and who,
Was killed too, though nobody remembers.
He remembers how excited his older brother was,
At getting his license,
And he remembered how they made,
His idol a monster and his victim,
A martyr.
Never enough room for two victims,
There are no flowers here.
At the school around the corner,
Everyone waits for the massacre everyday,
While it may be delayed and we given,
A period of grace,
It shall not last forever.
The boy being bullied at his locker.
Is the one that will do it.
The painfully shy girl who sits alone
Has been silently voted the,
Most likely to off herself.
She will not disappoint them,
The day off.
The sullen boy in the office,
Was just expelled,
For mental self-defense.
The face of the girl in the graduation composite
That hangs on the wall,
Has been missing since a mnoth ago
And her body will not be found,
For six more.
Her boyfriend is already dating her best friend
And the girl that stands before,
The black glass is oblivious to all
The Void
############--Cut-Here--############
The pain that we all may feel from being lonely, anxious, depressed, shy, etc, etc, might all just be a drop in the bucket compared to the person sitting right next to you.
I won't bore you with the details of my life and why I'm here on this site.
I will simply share with you all a poem that I have had for several years now.
Its not mine, I did not write it.
I first read it on Usenet back in '03.
I kept it because it reminds me that no matter how bad my life might be or how bad I think it is, things can always get worse, and there will always be someone who suffers more than I.
############--Cut-Here--############
The 13 Tolls of Sorrow
The girl to my right sits at home alone,
And writes dark poetry,
And assumes she has,
A monopoly on pain.
The girl selling herself on the corner,
Knows different.
The boy to my left,
Just received apology letters,
From every University he applied to.
The woman that walks behind us,
Has not believed in God,
Since her little boy drowned in the family,
Swimming pool last August.
The man outside the hospital doors,
Pacing,
his lover is inside dying from AIDS,
And knows he is next.
The distraught man beside him,
Has a wife, who took years of trying,
And thousands of dollars of fertility drugs,
To get pregnant, just gave birth,
To a still born first son.
The nursery painted, every dream shattered,
They'd do anything for the baby,
Of the pregnant young girl,
Standing nervously outside the clinic,
Innocence's death is scheduled for 2:30.
They've never met,
And its 2:29.
The girl at the small cemetery across,
From the hospital is,
Visiting her mother's grave,
Who was killed by a careless driver,
And is astounded by the,
Continuous reproduction of wreaths,
Even a month later.
At the other end of the cemetery,
A boy is visiting his brother,
Who was that driver, and who,
Was killed too, though nobody remembers.
He remembers how excited his older brother was,
At getting his license,
And he remembered how they made,
His idol a monster and his victim,
A martyr.
Never enough room for two victims,
There are no flowers here.
At the school around the corner,
Everyone waits for the massacre everyday,
While it may be delayed and we given,
A period of grace,
It shall not last forever.
The boy being bullied at his locker.
Is the one that will do it.
The painfully shy girl who sits alone
Has been silently voted the,
Most likely to off herself.
She will not disappoint them,
The day off.
The sullen boy in the office,
Was just expelled,
For mental self-defense.
The face of the girl in the graduation composite
That hangs on the wall,
Has been missing since a mnoth ago
And her body will not be found,
For six more.
Her boyfriend is already dating her best friend
And the girl that stands before,
The black glass is oblivious to all
The Void
############--Cut-Here--############
The pain that we all may feel from being lonely, anxious, depressed, shy, etc, etc, might all just be a drop in the bucket compared to the person sitting right next to you.
