I woke up today.
Got dressed.
Went to college.
Sat though my lectures.
Drank energy drinks to keep me awake.
I laughed with people.
It was a good enough day.
There are some days like that.
Where you feel...happy?
But is it true happiness or just a fleeting visit from faux masks.
Biology this morning.
Boring as hell.
We sat and giggled up the back of the hall about Jackass.
Pointless really.
But for a while I had the illusion I was happy enough.
Either that it was just the caffeine.
I presume the latter.
Had an English exam this afternoon.
Scary to think my finals are only three weeks away.
And I feel no where near ready.
Some stupid closed book shit on some shitty play.
Stupid really.
People bother me.
I live my life avoiding certain ones.
One of them happened to get on the same train as me.
Stupid people.
They find any excuse to hurl abuse at you.
Sometimes I even believe what they tell me.
Just because it seems easier than fighting it.
Then we got on the bus to come up the road.
We were standing at the bus stop.
There was this woman with four kids.
She wasn't really old enough to have four kids by the look of it.
She looked older at first.
Then I realised she was no older than twenty.
She had four of them.
A toddler. Two of them in primary school. And one a bit older.
The toddler was walking around with a Daffodil.
He looked up at me with this sad expression on his face.
As his mother yelled at his sisters.
Then just stood there.
Looked down at the Daffodil.
And tore it to shreds.
Ripped it apart ever so brutally.
So young.
So full of anger.
They had dirty faces.
Running around wild.
As there mother hurled abuse.
They all got on the bus.
The toddler sat there and curled up on the chair.
Put his head in the corner as his mother snapped at him;
"Sit yer self doon properly ya muppet boi."
And then she started to her friend next to her;
"Look at the Packie on the bus.
In their Packie clothes.
With their fucking corner shops."
I wonder what will become of that little boy.
Will he become like his mother?
Will he come a hate filled boy?
Or will he even make it to adult hood?
Will he get an education?
Will he get the things kids deserve?
I don't really know.
But I know one thing.
All I know is I have this horribly empty feeling.
That little boy shouldn't feel like that at his age.
Like he's already seen the evils of the world.
Sad reality is he probably has.
Out town has it all.
To coin a phrase;
"Stomp out this disaster town."
It needs it.
I can't really figure out how to describe it to you.
I'm not very good with words.
So I'll let someone else do it instead;
"City of the dead.
At the end of another lost highway.
Signs misleading to nowhere.
City of the dammed.
Lost children with dirty faces today.
And no one really seems to care..."
Got dressed.
Went to college.
Sat though my lectures.
Drank energy drinks to keep me awake.
I laughed with people.
It was a good enough day.
There are some days like that.
Where you feel...happy?
But is it true happiness or just a fleeting visit from faux masks.
Biology this morning.
Boring as hell.
We sat and giggled up the back of the hall about Jackass.
Pointless really.
But for a while I had the illusion I was happy enough.
Either that it was just the caffeine.
I presume the latter.
Had an English exam this afternoon.
Scary to think my finals are only three weeks away.
And I feel no where near ready.
Some stupid closed book shit on some shitty play.
Stupid really.
People bother me.
I live my life avoiding certain ones.
One of them happened to get on the same train as me.
Stupid people.
They find any excuse to hurl abuse at you.
Sometimes I even believe what they tell me.
Just because it seems easier than fighting it.
Then we got on the bus to come up the road.
We were standing at the bus stop.
There was this woman with four kids.
She wasn't really old enough to have four kids by the look of it.
She looked older at first.
Then I realised she was no older than twenty.
She had four of them.
A toddler. Two of them in primary school. And one a bit older.
The toddler was walking around with a Daffodil.
He looked up at me with this sad expression on his face.
As his mother yelled at his sisters.
Then just stood there.
Looked down at the Daffodil.
And tore it to shreds.
Ripped it apart ever so brutally.
So young.
So full of anger.
They had dirty faces.
Running around wild.
As there mother hurled abuse.
They all got on the bus.
The toddler sat there and curled up on the chair.
Put his head in the corner as his mother snapped at him;
"Sit yer self doon properly ya muppet boi."
And then she started to her friend next to her;
"Look at the Packie on the bus.
In their Packie clothes.
With their fucking corner shops."
I wonder what will become of that little boy.
Will he become like his mother?
Will he come a hate filled boy?
Or will he even make it to adult hood?
Will he get an education?
Will he get the things kids deserve?
I don't really know.
But I know one thing.
All I know is I have this horribly empty feeling.
That little boy shouldn't feel like that at his age.
Like he's already seen the evils of the world.
Sad reality is he probably has.
Out town has it all.
To coin a phrase;
"Stomp out this disaster town."
It needs it.
I can't really figure out how to describe it to you.
I'm not very good with words.
So I'll let someone else do it instead;
"City of the dead.
At the end of another lost highway.
Signs misleading to nowhere.
City of the dammed.
Lost children with dirty faces today.
And no one really seems to care..."
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