Between eighth grade and my freshman year in high school was probably the worst.  I used to write poetry and what I was able to salvage and save from Jack A., I did so on little pieces of paper hidden throughout my bedroom… that way if he found one spot, I would only lose one piece of myself.  I did my best to combine everything I have written but thought that I would share a few on my blog.  I don’t think it’s very good (I was a ‘preteen’) and haven’t shared it with anyone.

With Each Tear

With each tear that falls,

A silent scream can be heard – 

If you listen closely,

You can hear it.

No one tries to understand,

And no one cares – 

With each tear that falls,

The anger builds.

The strain of anger is great, 

Bottling up the anger to be sent away,

To be released on another day.

With each tear that falls,

A silent scream can be heard – 

Can you hear it?

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