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All the Broken Toys
/ ///
all the good things fall apart;
you made unhappiness an art
strived to hurt where you could,
and you did, babe, you did.
you built your life around pain;
beauty, daggers to your heart
a deep, deep well in your soul,
you made Schadenfreude your goal.
now I think I understand,
the need for you to undermine;
the need to deny the joys
that dissipate with broken toys.
childhood traumas, class and home,
stole the music, and the smiles;
took the light from your eyes
and left you all alone.
the testing times of bullied strife,
dreading when the class bells rang;
the fear and humiliations, they
never seemed to end.
the triumphant stares
of the alpha girls,
the snide remarks of bully boys;
kicking up the sullen dust
around the sad and broken toys.
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