wrote for a class. bout a kid who got the crap kicked out of. beacuse to buyers came to his room looking for his roomate (aka the seller) who had ripped them off i gusse. anyway this poem is about how long can we be bystanders before violence comes to us and we must take action. hmm?

Help!
Jake Sukert's story

I lost count-
Sheath blow to my chest
Board blow to the knee
And a dumbbell rips at the rest
Tearing off another piece of me

I lost count-
Staples, and stitches that hold
My thoughts back from the abyss
And still feel lost and cold
I'm forced to reminisce

I lost count-
Of the number of victims I never recognized
the number of times I let crimes slide
And lost count of those who passed me by
When I was about to …oh god…to die

ON YOUR KNEES! HANDS DOWN!
Those three say again- On your KNEES!
Sword on my neck, I'm execution prone
Broken phone, broken me, threats, release

As I wake shivering from those awful dreams
My emotions vary on the extreme
How many hospital nights do I wake
From their presence still hurt wanting to scream