The Only Proof of Life Is Death Page 2

self-defense,

  All mean the same thing don’t they?

  The cessation of life, end of a life, someone passing on,

  I ask you am I wrong?

  I suppose what differs is the meaning behind the words,

  And the feeling assigned to them-”

  And suddenly the clock on the wall had one final tock,

  It explodes in a show of light which surprises the detective and makes him drop his gun.

  The criminal takes this opportunity to brandish a glock,

  Three shots and the officer falls with a loud thud.

  The criminal says, “And so which meaning shall we ascribe this death sir?

  None other than murder.”

  And the criminal strikes another match to light his cigarette,

  But thinks and stops before lighting the cig, and drops the lit match instead.

  And the criminal says, “We’re all already dead.”

  Fast Times at I Don’t Care High

  The first day of school is today!

  This was always an exciting day for me I must say,

  For who knows what excitement awaits the students on their first day?

  Everyone knows that going to school of any sort will help you grow.

  And maybe you’ll learn about humans and what they hold as important;

  But this may be more than you wanted to know.

  Class is in session with the teacher lecturing about upcoming tests,

  And how the class needs to study for them,

  A subject on which she never seems to rest.

  But one student raises her hand and is called upon by the teacher,

  “Teacher the student next to me has just passed out,

  It’s from exhaustion no doubt!

  Being at school for many hours, along with the many hours homework takes,

  There is little time for anything else, even necessary breaks.”

  The teacher says, “Please don’t pay attention to her class,

  Everyone knows young people can handle the load, she’ll bounce back.”

  Before the teacher can continue the same student raises her hand,

  “Teacher there’s another problem I don’t think you understand,

  A student next to me has to go to the emergency room.

  They’ve just overdosed on Adderall!

  They felt they had to focus more, even though class just started this fall.

  Out of desperation to not fall behind,

  They didn’t care if they put their life on the line.”

  The teacher responds, “Can you please keep it down? I’m trying to teach,

  This test is very important and you must pass it to attain those goals,

  We’ve set for you to reach.”

  Interrupting again the student says, “Oh teacher I know it’s not time for the bell,

  But can we please stop I’m not feeling well.

  The student next to me just committed suicide,

  He said that all the stress and pressure from school and parents made him want to die.

  They all expected too much of him and he was given no chance to explore or be himself,

  And because of this, he felt he had no inner wealth.”

  Indeed on students these days there is too much pressure, leaving the students stressed,

  No surprise, that students in turn become depressed.

  Instead of learning the subjects of science and math,

  Soon the students become well versed in anxiety and other mental illness paths.

  Too much concentration is put on tests,

  Leaving students to only care about passing, forgetting the rest.

  And to pass or even get an A one must pay a high cost,

  No matter what that means one will have lost.

  A Cloudy, Fall Day at a Cemetery. How Original

  On a cool, cloudy fall day,

  Two mourners approach the land of the graves.

  Bringing tears to water their placed flowers from the week before,

  They hoped to say some words to the deceased.

  Perhaps only to make themselves feel better about who they are to their core.

  And also two other individuals were present in the cemetery,

  Deciding to talk to one another so they would no longer be solitary.

  “So what brought you here?”

  “Ah I missed my girlfriend who died last year.”

  “Sorry about that, for me it was just that I needed to get away from it all you know?

  I was feeling stressed.”

  “Oh yeah trust me I do, I also get a little depressed”

  “Do you ever wonder why people visit graves?”

  “I guess it’s because they miss the person and want to say ‘hey’.”

  And a moment of silence was observed,

  While fall brought its gradual freeze.

  And the wind talked and scared the fallen leaves,

  And they flew away with ease.

  “Really life is so short isn’t it? But I guess in the end it’s actually quite long.”

  “Oh I agree, especially for those who have a hard time carrying on.”

  “You just hope that in the end something goes on after you do,

  And not just your name or legacy, but a soul don’t you?”

  “Oh yes but I wonder why,

  Is it because in another world they think life will be better or maybe even just fine?”

  “I think people also like the idea of escaping death,

  Always continuing, so they’ll never run out of time.”

  “I guess so, but really all that really matters is what comes after death.

  When you think about it, it’s the only mystery left.”

  “True, you can become as powerful as you want in life,

  But what point is it, if you have no idea what death will be like.”

  “Maybe that’s part of what draws people to cemeteries,

  Hoping they’ll catch a glimpse or a whisper,

  Of what it’s like from life to death to transfer.”

  “In fact, it’s the only truth we’ll ever know,

  For all of life, beliefs and such are seen through filters don’t you know?”

  “Indeed, death shall never change,

  Never modify in any way it shall always be the same.”

  “Perhaps then that is why humans are so fascinated with death,

  Because it is the only pure truth left.”

  “Wait, did you hear something?”

  And then the mourners above walked away.

  “I hope they left us some nice flowers this time”.

  Skull and Chain

  This is a slam poem written and performed for

  kids at an after school program I volunteer at.

  This is for those of you disappointed of what you see in the mirror,

  For those of you who might do something you’ll regret later.

  For those of you who have been told you’ll never amount to anything,

  For those whose counselors and parents don’t help but fill them with pain.

  For those who want a way out,

  For those who have a voice but can’t be heard even when they shout.

  For those who have insecurities like us all,

  Or for those who couldn’t wait for school to start in the fall.

  Maybe because you wish your home life was better than it is,

  But really, this poem is for all of us kids.

  I remember what it was like when I was in high school.

  I hated it, so many fake people trying to be cool.

  See I kept trying to be that guy,

  The smart dressin, mean talkin, laides gawkin kind of guy.

  Always looking fly,

  Not even caring if my grades were high.

  See what people think of you here doesn’t matter,

  I’m here to tell what’s important is what comes after.

  I’m not talking about
college but do try to go.

  I’m not here to preach,

  Or even to teach,

  Or to put on a show.

  People say life after high school is easier but is it really?

  I’ve been out for a while and I’m not getting that feeling.

  Cause see life is hard in the real world,

  It feels like people have left you even your own lord.

  Is anybody even out there for us?

  It doesn’t seem like it with all the problems waiting for us.

  Children being forced into sex slavery and traded,

  Student loans and debt giving no reason to be elated.

  Land of the free is what America’s supposed to be,

  Then why am I afraid to see police at night if I’m a minority?

  Then the kids trying to take their own lives,

  Not feeling like there’s a reason to try.

  Well you and I are one and the same,

  But there’s an end to that internal pain.

  I call mine a skull and chain.

  The skeletons in my closet don’t just haunt me at night,

  They follow me, giving others a fright.

  But the closet skeletons,

  As worse as they seem,

  Will never compare,

  To the skeleton inside of me.

  Writing should be easy but instead it takes me so much time.

  Write what you feel? But what if you feel numb inside?

  I swear I had so many great things to say last night,

  But it’s hard to write when I’m holding a knife so tight.

  So instead of the ink of the pen that I use,

  The words that I think are from a pen of abuse.

  But do remember, it’s not suicide I’m trying to sell,

  Sometimes these words escape from my mind’s cell.

  See first I’m depressed,

  And then I’m repressed,

  And then I become a little bit stressed,

  Maybe one day I’ll finally be a success.

  For you, my lines aren’t as bad as they seem,

  You’ll close this book with words not in your dream.

  For you these lines won’t be dripping red,

  Screaming that it’d be better if you’re dead.

  See instead of carving some words into my arm,

  I decided to write them so I wouldn’t be met with harm.

  Yeah I know I speak kinda fast,

  Only because I don’t want to talk about my past.

  Stopped writing for a bit while life killed some time,

  But turns out I couldn’t escape the demons in my mind.

  Sometimes I like to think about what my life would be like,

  If I would’ve just made more choices that were right,

  Or at