Youth Input
Scared And Alone
Scared and alone. A thirteen year old girl tooken away from home. All she has left is a broken heart. She was used and abused like a second hand Wall-martamd because of a lack of love she feels like in this world she has no part. She cries her eyes out day after day. She left in February and is still there in May. Her dad is dead, moms a drug addict. Fried don't know her boyfriends in jail, and God keeps telling her she failed. Wut are you sopossed to do when your not loved. You just wanna die thinkingat least god will let you wrise above.
Wut happens when no lone loves you bac and your heart has a heartattack put on a permanent hold. Now your emotions are sold to America's most forgotten. My heart was left alone so long it went rotten.
Grade 8 is hard. It's fustraiting, confusing, and could tare a teen apart. But you just gotta keep trying and stick it out. Doing your homework is wut it's all about.
Anonymous
Dear God
Dear God, I no there isn't relle any point in me writing you a letter because it's not like I can mail it to you, but I'm doing it anyways. Hellcome you keep taking every thing and every one from me. My whole life I'v been treeted like shit. No one ever paid attention to me. Finally my life starts going good and you ruan it again. Is this because I said I did not believe in you. Because if it is Im sorry! Im really sorry. I just wanted to fit in with my friends. Yo no wut? I no I am important no matter wut you ar any one says. I just wanna no why My mom was making up theses lies about us. That make us stay in a foster home longer. Is it because deep down she doesn't really want me to come home. Plz God give her a sign to tell her that Im sorry for being difficult. I won't be any more I promisse. Plz let me go home god plz plz plz I'm bagging you I will do any thing. I will dump my boy friend, I will never talk to my friends againI won't celebrate my birthday. Plz just let me go home. Thankx God
Anonymous
Appritiation
Appritiation doesn't exist in my life.
The only thing I no how to do is cutt my self with a knife.
When nobody says good job or wow that's really great
you begine to build up anger and hate.
A locked up fence that won't let you be proud
That voice you always here that says shut up your too loud
It sux when no one cares and you have to relie on your self.
It feels like you mine as well put your dreams on a shelf.
I'm done writing poems, that's it, there gone.
You try to do something right but it all turns out wrong.
I tried to be happy and tried to stay strong.
But every time sum thing good happens, it disappears really fast
So now I'm done with trying to make something worthless last
Anonymous
I Hide My Face
I hide my face behind make-up and hair.
God made me ugly and it's just not fair.
It sux being fat but to put ugly on top.
It feels like my happinesss just dropped.
If you seen my life. It would make you cry
Just watching me rott away makes you wanna die.
When everything you have starts drifting away.
There's nothing you can really do or say.
Every night I pray. Just triing to take it day by day.
Hoping that you get to go home,
but the only thing lyou get is the joy of being alone.
You can't call your boyfriend cause where he is they have no phone.
I guess 4 him jails a bad place.
Going every day without seeing his face.
Nobody's ever there because no body ever cares.
They only think about their own lives.
Sometimes it feels like I'm getting stabled by thousands of knives.
Anonymous, May 2006
Six Months
Six months in hell I mine as well be
I'd rather be stabbed, hung or shot in the...
The rush of a ocean refreshes my mind
The smell of fresh air brings back good times,
But now all I see is dark clouds and rain.
Missing you is driving me in sain
When people don't believe you it stabs you in the heart
Not being trusted is an emotion that tears you apart.
It makes you ball out your eyes when people think you lie.
It's like being accused of being on drugs when you weren't even high.
So be 4 you accuse someone of telling you a liie,
Maybe you should stop and think of the reason why.
It sux when your egnored, and hated, even worse,
but being unwanted is like a life long curse
that follows you around where ever you go.
Sometimes it would be nice to be able to just say no.
To make sum dessicions without them always being made.
I wish my life would just start to fade,
fading out to nothing but air.
Maybe then my life will be fair.
Anonymous
You're Only Human (Second Wind)
Lyrics by Billy Joel
You're having a hard time and lately you don't feel so good
You're getting a bad reputation in your neighborhood
It's alright, it's alright
Sometimes that's what it takes
You're only human, you're allowed to make your share of mistakes
You better believe there will be times in your life
When you'll be feeling like a stumbling fool
So take it from me you'll learn more from you accidents
Than anything you could ever learn at school
Don't forget your second wind
Sooner or later you'll get your second wind
It's not always easy to be living in this world of pain
You're gonna be crashing into stone walls again and again
It's alright, it's alright
Though you feel your heart break
You're only human, your gonna have to deal with heartache
Just like a boxer in a title fight
You got to walk in that ring all alone
You're not the only one who's made mistakes
But they're the only things that you can truly call your own
Don't forget your second wind
Wait in your corner until that breeze blows in
The Words of a Proud Loser
I’m a teenager of 16, and I’ve come up with a theory on popularity that I’d like to share with the world. Whether or not you agree with it? That’s your choice. But it might be healthy for you to read these words and think about them. Maybe they’ll have an impact on you, even help you. But then again, these are only my words.
To put it rather succinctly (or bluntly for those of you who don’t read as much as me) I am a loser. And I’ve come to be very proud of that fact. I’ll tell you why, but if this takes a while and you end up quite bored, I blame you for listening.
The grade school I attended was quite small, with only one class for each grade and little money. The way I grew up, your class of under 30 students was your entire social pyramid, and was usually full of cliques. The popular clique didn’t talk to the loser clique, and the floaters spent most of their time trying to be like the poplar clique. The cliques never gained or lost a member. You were either in or you were out, and you didn’t get a chance for redemption. When new kids came they were basically on trial until the "cool kids" decided if they were acceptable. Being a loser, I had little interest in their system of coolness. But seeing as this was the only popularity I had ever encountered, I never got to witness the intricacies of the popularity pyramid until high school, where I was astounded at the ups and down and delicate nature or the system. I was also astounded to find that although everyone tried to become popular, that wasn’t necessarily the best position in the system. Although I’m far past those days, the opinions and ideas I formed in grade 9 are still with me and I wrap myself in them when I’m feeling insecure.
It was in grade nine that I developed my pride in my loserosity. Yes I know that’s not a word, please don’t interrupt. I’m proud to be a loser because I wouldn’t for the life of me become a popular prep for a very specific reason: they are slaves to the convention, that convention being the watchful eyes of the rest of the world. They are slaves to fashion. If they wear the wrong pair of pants, they lose their position. They are slaves to propriety. If they suddenly decide they feel like spinning in circles for the fun of it they’re labeled a freak and they lose their position. They are slaves to the social pyramid. If they’re friends with the wrong people, they also lose they're position. And even if they like to do it, I also look upon it as they are forced to do such things as drink, smoke, and go to wild raucous parties, during which they do stupid things that come back to bite them in the butt later. Not that all the other social vultures don’t mind bringing the others down. I believe that once you’re popular, you begin to lose control of your own life.
My status however, dictates me as free. Free to be who I who to be, do what I want to do, wear what I want to wear, and talk to who I want to talk to. If I’m a friend with that girl, this girl won’t stop being my friend because they’re "from the wrong group". If I wear these pants, and they went out of style last week, Abby won't stop talking to me. And if I run up and down the school halls singing ‘Mary Had A Little Lamb’ loudly with my eyes crossed, my friends will in all likeliness join in the festivities.
So what if the world doesn’t stop and stare when I walk in a room? So what if people don’t watch my style very closely so that they can imitate it? Do I care? No not really. Sure I still have my occasional yearning for the wild "cool" parties and the right to call myself popular. However, I’m surrounded with friends who love me for what’s inside the heart, not over the skin. They don’t really care what I do or whom I’m with, they simply love that I’m true to myself and we leave it at that. That brings us closer together than any of those prep friends who hate each other every other week because they hear from Bobby’s girlfriend’s sister that Jenny told her that Mary said that Eliza heard that you might have said her pants looked stupid that one day last fall.
And yes, I had my down periods. I even had my own experiences with depression and cutting myself, so I’m not just coming to you from the innocent blue here. My self mutilation was not an attempt at suicide, it was a way of asking for help, because I knew no other way. I was ever inexperienced in asking for help with words, and I’ve always been the melodramatic type: a bad combination. But I got through that by realizing that scaring my arms and wrists was wildly inappropriate and rather pointless when all I had to do was muster my courage and say ‘I have a problem, can you help me solve it?’ I’d never go back to that because I learned that I have friends to support me if only I ask. Some people insist that if they were true friends, they’d know if something was wrong. But let’s face it; their world doesn’t revolve around you. They have their own lives so lets cut them a tiny bit of slack and stick to telling them when you have troubles you need advice on, or just need a shoulder. Trust me, they’ll be there even if they have to walk through fire to get there.
Anywho my friends my life, unfortunately, does not revolve around this document. Ergo (meaning therefore, I simply adore big words [although its rather small]) this must come to a close. I sincerely hope you will consider the thoughts I’ve written down for you here. It’s not always the best thing to be at the top of the heap. Sometimes, the bottom gives you the most elbowroom. So let’s move and carry on. Again, I hope you’ll consider my words, the words of the Proud Loser.
Rae, age 16