Somewhere in the city a mother gave birth to her third child. She smiled down at the little baby in her arms. at one he smiled more then most babies. At two his father got ill. At three he attended the funeral. At four he started school. At five he had some great friends. At six his sister ran away. At seven he attended the funeral. At eight he discovered his skills. At nine he lost his friends. At 10 he said goodbye. At 11 he moved schools. At 12 he had his first girlfriend. At 13 he had his first boyfriend. At 14 he met the bullies. At 15 he wishes he was dead. At 16 he found the razor. At 17 he was found in his room as white at a sheet, blood pooling on the floor. No heart beat to be felt. As they laid him in the casket his mum sobbed remembering the little baby from all those years ago. Society had killed the teenager.
Poems
Por busted_
Just some creative writing and poems Más