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No Regrets
1 June, 2005
Author: Mike

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I look up.
I have blood on my hands.
I can't tell which body it's from.
Anonymous faces staring up at me
Like fish at a market.

I'd just stepped into the room.
The insults started flying.
Freak. Loser. Faggot. Retard.
I couldn't take it.
I snapped.

Now, looking around, I feel content.
Happy even. They should have expected this.
Waited for it.
Craved for it.
Just like I did.

------- Author's Notes -------

Some people take things, trying to ignore all the sh*t thrown their way. Then, they lose control..

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Comments on this poem/writing:

Yanny (82.31.4.101) -- Wednesday, June 8 2005, 07:24 pm

Scary but true.

The advice given is : ignore it they'll get bored.
But the reality? No-one can ignore it so much, They snap.
Mike (82.35.78.155) -- Friday, June 10 2005, 06:18 pm

..

That's exactly what this poem is about.
 
Name:                                           Remember Me

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