Poets logo

1911.45 ACP

Till We Put Them Down

By Gia SaintPublished 8 years ago • Updated 11 months ago • 1 min read
(No ownership of photo)

Every day, I walk past you, your warm smile drawing others to you. It’s almost contagious, your radiant smile. You were the happy kid, practically skipping to sixth. Sixth period was algebra, and we always had fun. I suppose I could have asked more questions, but I never asked one. I never saw the grades on your tests. I didn’t know when you got home your father beat you half to death. I didn’t realize the bullies were piling on. I didn’t realize you always listened to sad songs. How could I save someone I didn’t know was drowning? How could I save someone who wore a happy mask but underneath was frowning? Somehow, you found peace in your weapon; who knew that a gun store was your sweet heaven? Who knew that your classmates would be the victims of your therapy? Who knew that you lived in your own little world of no clarity? The silence in the halls became deafening. Now, because of you, we all sleep restlessly. The day is new, so I start again. I now ask everyone how their day has been. Sometimes, all humans need is a friend. The sooner we realize this, the sooner we will regain our humanity again.

sad poetry

About the Creator

Gia Saint

‘Do you not know I am a woman? When I think, I must speak.’ — W.S As You Like It

YouTube: Gia Saint | Instagram: Giassaint

Enjoyed the story? Support the Creator.

Subscribe for free to receive all their stories in your feed. You could also become a paid subscriber, letting them know you appreciate their work.

Subscribe For Free

Reader insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment
    Written by Gia Saint