Violence

• Shannon Krause, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2010

Just a sliver across my finger,
Just a drop of blood on the paper,
Cut me deep and make me weep,
Cuts over my hands,
Gashes and tears on my arms,
From you pushing me down the stairs,
I'll take you down and light the flares,
Before you bite me backa and shove me away,
I run and sit on the beach,
Watching the tree branches sway,
Track me down and ruin my dreams,
Cover my mouth; people won't hear my screams,
Nothing more than a violent stare,
Dear boy, I know you won't play fair.