Not Ever
A poem by Becca


I hear...

their hushed voices sting like broken glass,
children passing 'round a rumor through the class

I see...

painted masks with glowing green eyes
cowards, facades, pointing fingers, anguished cries

Trapped...

In the dark, where am I?
don't panic; it will be just fine

Game...

I can't let them win; they will not get away
This is a game I would rather not play

Set…

They are the ones; they must be destroyed
Violence will get us nowhere, I implore

Match...

You don't understand; you never will
Perhaps that's the truth; I've had my fill